Alive
by pazu7
Summary: The Blue Fairy cast a final, sympathetic smile on David. “You are alive,” She said. Then She faded, once again, into stillness in the murky depths.
1. Chapter 1

_And yet another in a series of unfinished fan fictions I have posted. It's not a completely original concept: what would happen if David's prayers were actually answered; but hopefully a unique take. I started this one over a year ago and thought I would finish it before posting. But while I experienced a period of exuberance at its conception, I am afraid it's been laying dormant for a while. I'm about 6k words into it and about1/3 of the way through. A bit of an epic it seems. This is the first 1600 words or so. I will post in segments and, hopefully, refuel the fire that birthed it._

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress by **

**Bryan Harrison **

**Part 1**

**1.**  
"A real boy," David whispered again, to the gentle blue figure whose image wafted in the rolling currents. She did not speak, nor did her face change into any expression that might impart some understanding of her intentions.

How much time had passed since he had arrived in the deep waters of her submerged abode and how many of his fervent prayers had gone unanswered? He knew this answer, surely, but only in its technical essence; the simple calculating way that was so easily available to his Mecha brain. But in its true substance, it's meaning, its relevance, he had no clue.

"Blue Fairy," he started again, firmer this time, undaunted by her silence. "Please make me a real boy."

Still she spoke not. So he asked again.

And again.

The waters grew dark as another in a countless procession of days drew to a close. Slowly the amphibicopter's floodlights began to fail and in hours a dim jaundiced glow was all that was left of their luminance. Still David prayed, even as her image diminished to a dark silhouette against the vast gloom.

He grew tired.

David had never known weariness before. He did not know that it was being deprived of the suns life-sustaining rays which left him feeling this way. He was not aware that Teddy had already retreated into that dreamless state that was the slumber of their kind. He only knew that he was having a hard time hearing his own voice in his ears and that, even when night passed again into day, the darkness did not relent and her face was harder and harder to discern against the withering blue. Eventually he could not move at all. His mouth could no longer repeat the mantra that had been his only purpose since he had arrived. But this would not dissuade him either. If all he could to do was to sit and stare, then he would be content to do so until she…

"_David_."

The voice broke him from his lethargy and he strained his head to look up, again, at her.

"_David, why is it that you have stayed here for so long_?" the Blue Fairy asked.

He was stunned beyond response, entranced by the new glow that came from her and washed the ocean floor in hues of blue and gold; reveling in the warmth of her voice that seemed to come from inside his own head.

"_David_?" The Blue Fairy repeated.

'I want to be a real boy!" he said quickly, "So I can go home to Mommy."

The Blue Fairy did not speak for a time and a fear grew in David's mind that she had once again retreated into the silent state in which he had found her. But she spoke at last and her voice was filled with a caution that David did not understand.

"_I can grant you this wish, David, for it is my power to do so, and it is my calling to reward the steadfast. But I must know that you understand the depth of your request_." She paused then and seemed to be waiting for David to confirm this. But he did not have anything to say. He knew well what he wanted. It had driven him every moment since 'She' had opened his heart by speaking the 7 words of his awakening into sentience.

"_A mortal life is a trial, David, fraught with the countless conflicts between flesh and spirit that, in your innocence, you cannot understand. I must know that this is truly your desire_."

David was about to respond, to assure her he was ready for the gift which would allow him to return to his family, to lead the life of which he had always dreamed. But The Blue Fairy already understood.

The world seemed to shift and suddenly his presence was intensified somehow; he became a part of the immediate world in a way he'd never felt before. He was pondering this strange new sensation when his body was suddenly filled with an indescribable sensation; a vibrancy that started in his chest and flowed in a pulsating rhythm through his arms and legs, over his skin. His head was suddenly swimming with the flow of this new vitality. He bolted upright in the amphibicopter seat and gripped the steering bar as something that burned like fire erupted in his stomach and his body began to tremble as a new desperate need tore at his chest.

"_Breathe_!" The Blue fairy commanded, and David frantically drew his first breath. He quickly pushed it from his chest and drew another, and another, until the process seemed to repeat on its own. The air was rank with the chemical odors of the pressurized cabin and the sudden foul fragrance of his own fearful sweat. But David did not notice these things. He only knew the enveloping pain of birth, the wrenching pangs of a desperate hunger, the strange new pulse that was racing in his chest and in his ears, and the tremors from the awakening of his new body.

The Blue Fairy cast a knowing, sympathetic smile on David and then set her gaze back into the void.

"_You are alive_," She said as she faded, once again, into stillness in the murky depths.

David called out to her, to try and tell her of the agonizing fire now burning in his stomach, the nausea from the swimming of his head and how the chill of the cabin was now penetrating his flesh. But her light was gone, leaving him alone in the cold blue world, shivering in the painful aftermath of his birth.

He screamed.

Then there was darkness.

**2.**  
Motion.

Distant voices.

Lights shifting at the edge of his vision.

Pinpoint pains that come and go as he fades in and out of awareness.

"Can you hear me," someone asks. "Move your fingers if you can hear me."

David obeys and hears someone make an excited sound. There are other voices, raised in exclamations of joy, relief. There is activity he does not understand. He is being moved again and placed between sheets. The cloth is cold against his skin but, in time, warms to him, and he sleeps, finally escaping the dizzy sensation still moving through his head.

When, at last, he opens his eyes he almost screams again. It must have all been an illusion; a "dream" is what Mommy would have called it, for he is still encased in glass. Then David sees that this enclosure is different. This is not the amphibicopter and the face beyond the glass is not the Blue Fairy. This new face, a man's face, is standing above him, looking elsewhere at first but then notices David's gaze. David knows this face but, in his delirium, cannot place it. His recollections seem to be dulled somehow, not as easy to call they once were. The man stares back a moment, then says something into a pad in his hand before he rushes away, leaving David alone again, locked in a shell of glass in a flat white room.

He sleeps.

"Hello?"

David opens his eyes. The glass is gone now and a new face is looking down on him. He does not know her. David wants to respond, but it is as if a great weight is on him and he decides to only blink his eyes lest his head start to spin again.

"Well, glad you could join us, finally, "the new face says. "I'm Doctor Chen and I'll be looking in on you until you're feeling better."

David can only grunt in response and the woman becomes distracted with the machinery surrounding his shell. "You've been through a hell of an ordeal, young man," she says as she reads meters and adjusts dials.

Young man? The words resound through David's brain and, for the first time since he has awakened, he feels a sense of hope; that all his pain has been for good.

"Am I real?" He chokes the words out through a dry throat. But the woman does not seem to hear.

"You're lucky you're still with us," she says in a disinterested fashion as she scans readouts on a translucent slate. "There wasn't enough air left in that copter to last another hour." Whatever she sees in the readouts seems to satisfy her and she looks again at David. Her expression is perplexed. "You're a strange case, aren't you? One for the journals for sure." She is pensive, as if speaking to herself.

David opens his mouth to speak and she leans close. "What did you say," she inquires.

"Am I real now?" he asks again, gruffly.

The woman does not seem to understand this question at first. She studies David's face carefully, gazes long into his eyes. Then she rears back quickly, as if in the sudden presence of something dangerous, and stares at David with cautious, analytical eyes.

"You need to get solids into your system," she says finally, clinically, and then departs, casting a quick suspicious glare over her shoulder before she speaks to a man at the door. He nods his head and then departs too. But he returns quickly with a plate of something, and sits on the edge of David's shell. His face is gentler than the woman's and after a moment's scrutiny David suddenly remembers where he has seen it before.

"Joe!" he exclaims and then coughs from the burning in his throat.

"Easy now," the man says. "I'm no Joe, I'm an Angelo. A nurse by any other name, and I'm tasked with feeding a starving little boy." He smiles as he lifts the cover from the food. The smell is tantalizing and David's stomach rolls with new anticipation. Any questions of why Joe would be posing as a nurse are immediately set aside.

"Open up, let's get some food in you." Angelo says. David obeys eagerly and the Mecha ponders his choices before he lifts a spoonful of something from the plate. "Why don't we start with some spinach," he suggests.


	2. Chapter 2

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress by **

**Bryan Harrison **

**Part 2**

**1.**  
Minutes stretch into hours, into days and then weeks. David acclimatizes to his new senses. He learns of the smelling and the tasting; of the common pains mortals live with every day and the strange new sensations that have been awakened in his body. He learns the pleasures of eating and drinking and then the crude but relieving task of dispelling of his wastes. Doctors come and go, studying him with detached fascination, poking and prodding, taking samples of his vital fluids, of his flesh and hair. They ponder aloud why a boy of his apparent age has not been inoculated against common illnesses and then David undergoes a painful round of injections. "Big boys don't cry!" Dr Chen scolds when tears accentuate his complaints. So David learns to tolerate the pain of their intrusions in silence. They speak in cryptic coded language but he understands some of their banter. "Is it brain damage?" they wonder. Could that be the reason why he does not seem to know simple human functions? "What of his digestive track?" they ponder, "His lungs? His veins? His liver?" He is as untainted by normal toxins as a newborn..

They ask him questions. "How old are you?" "Where are you from" "How long were you in the copter?" He answers truthfully which does nothing to alleviate their confusion. His story incites more coded language and communications are sent. But they do not tell him if his tales have been validated. More tests ensue, painful, invasive. Humiliating.

So David learns to take refuge in sleep. He finally understands the lure of that dissociated state and he lingers there as often as they will allow. Soon, he hopes, he will be taken to see 'Her' where he wishes to stay for the rest of his time. Her face comes to him at night, but it does not constantly glow in his mind as it once did, when his flesh was not flesh and his heart was only the hard coded commands of the chip in his head.

It might have been a month that he had been captive to these men of science; he was not sure. He could no longer access the clock in his head. What he saw there now was dark, cold memories in which the recollection of 'Her' face was the only source of warmth. But somehow it is fading. Trapped amidst the background clutter of this shell of flesh, this soft machine, Her image is fragmenting. His feelings are as strong as the day they drove him to fall into the Ocean in hopes of escaping them. But oddly he finds himself lost as he tries to recall the specific contours of Her face.

This thought was on his mind as Angelo came into his room. The Mecha nurse had become the only friend that David had in this antiseptic environment.

"Time to wake, David," Angelo said cheerfully. "They want to talk to you. Let's get you up and dressed."

But David had not been sleeping. He threw off the covers and sat on the edge of his bed. "When can I go home?" he asked as Angelo laid out a pair of pants and shoes.

"Whenever they find out where that is, I guess."

"But I already told them!" David yelled. Angelo shot him a reproachful glance and the boy lowered his voice as he continued. "I live with Mommy and Martin and Henry and my friend Teddy in a big house near a pond in the woods. I told them when Mommy took me to the forest and about the Flesh Fair and the End Of The World and Blue Fairy and when she made me real. What else to they want to know?"

Angelo didn't respond for a moment and there was something sad in his face. But it was gone quickly and the Mecha smiled when he asked, "You do know how to dress yourself, right?"

**2.**  
The man that was standing beside the large chair, gesturing for David to sit, had a stern unreadable expression. So did the other men in the room; stern faces and suspicious eyes, made all the more ominous by their dark suits, a few of which were adorned with shiny bits of metal on their lapels. David knew these to be symbols of high office and understood this was an important event. Dr Chen was there too, reading something from the slate she always seemed to have with her, cradled to her chest like a sacred text. She glanced up when David entered the room and gave him what might have passed for a smile, to those who didn't know her better

"Have a seat, David," the man behind the chair said. David glanced up at Angelo who winked to suggest everything was OK. David walked to the chair and sat. There was a brief silence in which all eyes were on Angelo. After a moment the Mecha nurse got the message and excused himself from the room. David thought he saw some concern in Angelo's face as he turned to close the door, but could not be sure.

He was alone again; alone with these strange, grim looking people. They sat as one on the large couch that surrounded the chair, eyeing him from behind unreadable expressions. Finally, the first man spoke.

"My name is Greig, David. Field Commander Greig to most, but you can call me Jeff if you like. I see no reason to rest on formalities. We're just going to have a nice little chat, OK?"

"OK Jeff," David said and nodded his head. But he felt a growing tension as the man named Jeff cleared his through to start their 'nice little chat'.

"David," Jeff started, "I'm going to be frank."

"OK, Frank," David said, wondering why the man would have so many different names. The other men in the room laughed and the mood seemed to lighten. Even Dr. Chen's smile seemed genuine for the first time since he'd met her. The man named Greig or Jeff or Frank grunted and the room fell silent again.

"Very clever son, but Jeff will do," he continued. "There are some serious concerns we have to deal with. You were found in stolen government property, buried beneath the remains of a submerged amusement park. You were located when your emergency GPS suddenly came on." David nodded to confirm this information, which he was already fully aware of, and the man continued. "But what really bothers us, son, is that according to the copter's log, you'd been there for just under twenty months. That's almost two years."

Once again David nodded to show he understood. Jeff glanced around the room before he continued. "There's not enough reserve oxygen in a simple patrol copter to last two weeks, let alone two years, son. And even if there was, what would you have survived on? The emergency rations hadn't been touched and … well let's just say we didn't see evidence of any natural bodily functions. See? It's an impossible story. So tell me, when did you arrive in that copter?"

"We took it from Rouge City. I already told Dr. Chen and the other men about it. Joe was with me and then we went to The End Of The World and I saw Dr Hobby who tried to lie about the Blue Fairy, and then I jumped off the building and saw her and then they caught Joe and I went with Teddy to see the Blue Fairy …" David stopped and cast a dark look on his inquisitor. "Where's Teddy?" He asked, accusingly. The man glanced around with a shrug. Another man cleared his throat.

"Ahhh, he probably means the toy we found in the cab. It's ahhh…" the man cleared his throat again, but said no more. Jeff nodded and turned to David.

"We'll get hold of your toy for you, son. Just finish your story."

David did not understand what had passed between the men, but he hadn't liked it. He glared at them for a moment and then reluctantly continued. "So… then something fell on us and I asked The Blue Fairy to make me real and she wouldn't at first. Then she did." Silence followed this testimony. Everyone's eyes were on him, except Dr Chen, who was typing something into the keys on her slate. Jeff took a deep breath.

"OK. OK. We verified the rouge that disappeared with the patrol copter, so we concede that part of the tale. But the rest is absurd, David. I think you know that. Now, I can be patient to an extent, after all you're a boy and I know boys tend to…"

"A _real_ boy!" David interrupted quickly. The tension inside him grew and he fidgeted in his seat.

"OK, a real boy," Jeff agreed with a impatient glance at the others. "And I suppose your Dad is Geppetto, right? Where might I find him?"

"I already told you this!" David blurted, irritated having to answer these questions again. The tension inside him was building towards critical mass. "My Mommy is named Monica and I want to go home to her. Why do you keep asking the same things?"

"Son, do you know how many Monica's there are out there? What's your last name? What's your address? Where did you go to school? How come neither your fingerprints nor DNA match anyone in our entire database?" The man who preferred to be called Jeff leaned forward and clasped his hands together. "No more games, son. Who really put you in that patrol copter and why?" he demanded.

It was all too much! David jumped from his chair angrily, clenching his jaws against the insufferable pressure inside. "I'm not your son! I've already answered your questions, there is no more to tell, and if you'll excuse me, I really have to pee now!" The men were taken aback by the outburst. They grumbled coarse whispers to one another, but decided to detain him no longer.

**3.**  
Angelo was grim faced when he brought David his meal that night. The Mecha nurse lingered a moment, moving a few things around on the cart beside David's bed. But it was easy to tell he was pretending, trying to make himself look busy while he prepared to say something.

"You really believe your story, don't you?" he asked, finally.

""It's true," David insisted, but softly. Something about Angelo's tone said this conversation must be between them alone.

"It's crazy, David," Angelo said. "It's like… like a fairy tale." He said this with a dismissive tone, but he was gazing on David with a strange sort of wonder. He turned away and seemed lost in thought, then he faced David and there was new intensity in his eyes. "You are telling the truth, aren't you?" he asked.

David nodded his head. Angelo's skeptical expression changed to excited curiosity. "What's it like?" he asked.

David looked back, confused for a moment and then understood. "It's… it's…" But he realized that he didn't know how to explain. "It's good and bad. I mean, it's messy and it seems to hurt a lot, but then you forget about the hurt and there's smells and other things. The food is good, I guess." David thought hard, trying to think of a way of describing the new presence he felt; the way he seemed to be more 'here' than before. But after a minute he just shrugged. "It's hard to compare because… well, I can't really remember a lot about before. It's like…" he sought for a word. "It's like a dream."

Angelo seemed a little disappointed. "I can't dream," he said sadly.

"Neither could I," David replied, understanding.

"And you can now?" Angelo asked.

David screwed up his face as he thought, and then nodded. "I think so," he said. "At least I can sleep now, and that's not bad. I like that." There was a moment where the two locked each other's eyes and then Angelo came and sat on the bed beside the boy.

"Listen," he whispered, "they don't know what to make of you. They think you are some kind of clone, or part of some kind of strange plot. I know it sounds stupid but …" he stopped there and considered something before he continued. "They don't understand you, David. They fear what they don't understand. And what they fear… they destroy."

"Destroy?" David whispered in shock. Fragmented memories flashed in David's mind, of shattered metal, electric fire and chanting crowds of Orga. "But I'm real!" he cried.

Angelo shook his head. "I don't mean literally, David. But I think they are planning to send you to a security center for illegal children. If they do that, and your story is true, then no one will ever claim you. You will never get out."

David sat up in his bed, his eyes wide and pleading, his mouth opened to yell. But Angelo shushed him. "Of course I would never let that happen! Here's what we'll do." The Mecha raised his head and seemed lost in thought for a time. Then he turned to David with an apologetic look on his face. "I'm sorry. I am not programmed to develop such strategies. I'll have to get help in developing a plan for your escape." He rose and walked to the door. "I'll know by tomorrow's breakfast. Be ready," he said. Then he was gone leaving David alone in the antiseptic silence of his room.

"Mommy," he whispered into the stillness.

_(cont...)_


	3. Chapter 3

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress by **

**Bryan Harrison **

**Part 3**

**1.**  
David awoke with a start, the fragments of a strange dream fading quickly against the screen of his mind. He sat up in his bed and gathered his wits, trying to remember what visions he had seen during his visit to that strange realm of fantasy. But he could not. How frustrating it was to have finally found the key to the secret world, yet not be able to recall what visions he'd encountered.

He set aside his attempts of recollection and peered around the dark room. It was still early. Beyond his door he cold hear the hushed voices of hospital attendants, the clicking from the moving feet of Mecha nurses and workers as they passed his room; the rapid staccato beeping language of the facilities main system communicating to the mechanical staff what tasks needed to be done. He'd once known that language. He listened for a time, and then felt a strange sense of loss that he would no longer be able to decipher that digital tongue. It was all so much mechanical gibberish to him now.

He would not be able to fall into his sleep state again, not with his pending escape on his mind. So he sat and stared at nothing, knowing for the first time the irritating tension of nerves strung tight, like an inaudible pitch at the back of his mind that would not let him relax or think any pleasing thoughts. He became suddenly aware that he had been rolling his bed-sheets in his hands, so tightly that it had formed a knot. He stopped and stared at the twisted cloth. What was this, he wondered; this peculiar and pointless task that his mind had set his hands to without his even knowing? And what other automatic mechanisms of his new body might be in operation below his level of awareness? There was a flash in his mind, a momentary but disturbing insight that perhaps he had chosen this path unprepared; a fear that this body and its countless involuntary functions were things that he could somehow loose control of. But this train of thought was suddenly cut off as the door to his room opened to allow a sliver of light into the room. The shadow of a man was formed in that thin light.

"Angelo?" David asked.

But the man that walked into the room was not Angelo. He stopped just inside the door and stared at David for a moment. David tried to make out the man's features, silhouetted as he was against the light coming from the hallway. But the intruder backed out quickly and spoke to someone out of David's line of sight. There was a time when David would have been able to just focus his attention and hear what was being said so softly across the length of his room. There was a time when he would have been able to adjust his sight to better see the face that had appeared and disappeared so quickly. But he could not anymore.

"Who is it?" David asked. But the voices at the door just continued their hushed conversation. Were these the men that had come to take him away; to lock him in some secret cell where they would study him, poke him with needles and take samples from his new flesh? And would he ever be allowed to leave that place, or be able to somehow escape, to be with 'Her' again? "Who's there?" David asked again, louder, not knowing that the force in his voice was anger; anger generated by the fear that was making his heart race and his breath come shallow and fast.

Then the door opened wider and something was suddenly moving into the room. David's fear was replaced with surprise as he watched a small shape walk through the door to the point where he could make it out in the faint light that was coming from the hallway.

David knew this shape! It was a _bear_ shape!

"Teddy!" he exclaimed, rising quickly from the covers, jumping from the bed and running to his friend. He slid to the floor and grasped up the bear, hugging it tightly in his arms. "Teddy! Where were you?" he asked, finally realizing the depths of his solitude as his tears fell at the feel of his friend's furry little body against his own. "I missed you."

"Hello, David," Teddy said in gruff mechanical warmth. "It's good to see you, too!"

David wiped his eyes, feeling strangely embarrassed and then held the bear up to look at him. "You look almost new!" He exclaimed and hugged the bear tight again.

"He is almost new, David" said a familiar deep voice. David looked up to see the man who preferred to be called Jeff. He was standing at the door, smiling broadly. Beside him stood another man, one that David had not seen before. This man did not look as friendly as Jeff was now trying to appear.

"We had a hard time finding an older model," Jeff explained, "but we managed. How do you like him?"

It took David a moment to understand what Jeff was saying. He held Teddy up again and studied him closely.

"Why don't we go out and play, David?" the bear asked. "It's nice outside and there are swings by the parking bay." This was not Teddy, David realized. It was an imitation, a substitute. Just like he had once been.

Jeff seemed to sense something was wrong and knelt beside David. "Hey, he's not so bad, is he? I bet he grows on you. Why don't we take him for a walk, so you two can get acquainted?"

David looked up into the man's eyes. The lie was plain to see. So, this was it. He was being taken away. Never to be seen again. And where had he to run, even if he could escape these large men? Angelo had failed him. He glanced down to the floor, holding back tears, pushing back the memories of home that suddenly surfaced, knowing now that they were all he would have left of Her.

"OK." David muttered weakly. The man who preferred to be called Jeff didn't seem to notice the defeat in David's voice, or didn't seem to care. He took the boy by the hand and lifted him to his feet.

"We'll have someone get your things later," Jeff said with false assurance. The boy grunted a weary acknowledgement.

"We're going to have such fun!" the fake Teddy chortled. But David knew better. He dropped the doll to the floor but the quiet man that had accompanied Jeff reached down and picked it up.

"Let's go," he said in a flat voice.

**2.**  
These were the same flat white hallways that he had been ushered down daily since he had arrived, but to David they now seemed like some new place, dark and foreboding in spite of the stark light. Jeff was moving faster now, as if he were worried about being stopped by someone. David was stepping quickly but having a hard time keeping up. He tried to complain but Jeff just pulled on his hand. The quiet one behind them nudged David on the back. David turned and scowled.

"No time," the man hissed, his eyes darting back and forth. David felt his anger rising. What was the hurry, after all? He'd be trapped in their secret world for the rest of his life. Surely there'd be plenty of time for their repetitive questions; their painful and humiliating experiments.

Blank-faced Nurses passed by, casting quick disinterested glances as they went about their business. Jeff and the quiet man never returned their looks and David suddenly wondered if they had acquired permission to take him away. The thought made him shoot imploring looks at those he passed. But no one kept his gaze. Then David's heart jumped as he saw a face approaching. It was Angelo! He waved trying to draw his friend's attention without Jeff or the quiet man noticing. But Angelo passed right by without even glancing in his direction. David started to cry out, then he saw Angelo again, ushering a withered old man from an elevator. And there he was again, reading from a glowing slate to a group of men in white gowns. Of course, David realized. It was a standard design. Like Joe had been. Like he had once been.

"Not who you thought, eh?" said the quiet man with a snicker. David wished he would go back to being quiet. "You have to know how to tell the difference," the man said. David wondered how he could.

They finally reached a complex arrangement of sliding doors leading into various hallways. David realized how futile an escape attempt would have been in this place. He would have never been able to find an exit on his own. Jeff and the quiet man seemed to know exactly where they were going. They did not even stop to read the signs. They turned as one, and passed through a set of doors that led down a passage lit by sunlight pouring in from translucent panels in the ceiling. David could see that it was raining outside. The streams of water cascading down the sides of the domed ceiling caught his attention but Jeff pulled him faster and he noticed now they the men had increased their pace.

"Why are we-" _walking so fast_, was the unfinished question David was trying ask, but in a sudden rush he found himself being turned around as the two men started quickly in the other direction.

"Change of plan!" the quiet man hissed. "Dock 7. Loading bay!" he added, glancing over his shoulder as if they were being perused. David looked back but saw nothing but an empty hall leading to another array of sliding doors. What were they fleeing? Then, just as they passed through the doors back into the center of the array, he noticed a group of men at the opposite end of the hall they'd just left. He didn't have a chance to focus on the men, they had moved quickly into another hallway, but how had Jeff and the quiet man they known they were there? And why had they avoided them?

"Move!" the 'not so quiet anymore' man said, his face twisted in alarm. Jeff did not seem so disturbed however. He walked quickly but his face showed no sign of the strain that usually accompanied human tension. They were soon into another passageway, darker, only the flat light from the ceiling lit this one. David turned but could no longer see their pursuers. Then they were suddenly out into another busy thoroughfare. Nurses and orderlies in white passed by, still unconcerned with the nervous looking trio.

"Wait," the quiet man said and paused, staring at a blank wall. "Now," he said suddenly and they started moving again towards a set of doors that had suddenly opened in the wall. They reached the doors just as two men erupted with a gurney and passed into the thoroughfare. Jeff and the quiet man dashed into the dark hallway pulling David after them.

'_They can hear it!'_ The thought struck David as they moved into the doorway that had not been there a moment before;_ 'They can hear the hospital system communicating to the Mecha staff! That's how they know where everything is!'_ The odd thought brought on a rush of questions, but he had no time to ponder this sudden understanding. An alarm suddenly went off, filling the hall with a harsh siren.

"They know he's gone," Jeff said with no emotion. The quiet man did not respond, but quickly whisked David up in his arms and began to run.

(cont...)


	4. Chapter 4

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress by **

**Bryan Harrison **

**Part 4**

Hallways opened and closed as they raced through the hospital. The quiet man was not so quiet anymore. He was calling out directions. "Here… Wait… Now… Left…Right…" and soon David could see a cleared space ahead and words emblazoned along the wall:

**Dock 7 - No Private or Delivery Parking.**

They stopped in the large loading bay. It was empty and looked like it had not been used very recently. Jeff walked to an input terminal in the wall and pressed on something. The large bay doors hissed to life and slowly opened. The quiet man finally let Danvid stand on his own. They waited.

"Where is he?" Jeff asked, his face finally displaying a hint of impatience.

"On his way," the quiet man said. David was wondering who they could be talking about when the man turned, his face stern. "Take him. He yours now," he said, holding out the toy bear.

The Teddy looked at David expectantly, but David turned away and crossed his arms. There was only one Teddy that he called a friend. He didn't want a substitute. "No!" he said resolutely. But the quiet man would not accept this answer. He grabbed David by the shoulders and, with a graceful ease pried his arms apart and shoved the bear against his chest. "You'll need him," the man explained quickly.

David was about to object but a loud voice came over the speaker system. "_Security to Dock Seven! Security to Dock Seven."_ This was not coded into the digital tongue. This was a command for Orga men, men who would be carrying weapons.

"They found us!" The quiet man said. Jeff grunted an acknowledgement but showed no other emotion.

David finally understood now that they were taking him without the hospital's permission. He jumped to make a dash for the door but Jeff's grip was too strong. "Let me go!" he yelled, kicking at the man with his foot. But the strikes had no effect and neither man seemed very concerned with his protests.

"Play nice!" the toy bear suggested in a stern voice. David attempted to fling the thing away but it clung to his arm with a grip that was pure Mecha. The men ignored the scuffle going on below their field of vision. They stood unmoving, staring at the bay doors. Waiting. Then there was a hiss like steam escaping and the doors started closing. David's heart jumped with excitement. Someone else was closing them from somewhere else in the system, locking the escape route! But just as fast his excitement was lost as a hovering cruiser zipped in-between the huge bay doors. The safety mechanism detected the sudden obstruction and the doors froze in place.

Jeff was suddenly moving again, across the floor of the empty loading dock towards the cruiser that hummed as it hovered a few feet over the floor. The alarms were blazing and David could finally hear pressure release doors opening and closing behind him. _Hurry_, David thought. But the cruiser had already door whooshed open and a man was crawling out. David saw the man's face and screamed.

"Angelo!"

The Mecha nurse smiled down on him. "Hurry now, David. They're coming for you." He said and turned to face the man called Jeff. He stepped away from the cruiser and motioned for Jeff to take the wheel. But the man stepped back and David watched in amazement as his face started to melt and twist, slowly morphing into another face.

"I can't take him. They're too close." The man who he had thought was Jeff said, as his features set back into place. His face was now identical to the quiet man who had accompanied him. They both stood impassively. _Mecha!_ David now understood. That is how they'd understood the hospitals voice, how they'd known where they were going, how'd they'd been able to tell one Angelo from another, and how they'd been able to change plans with Angelo at the last moment.

"But I can't leave the premises!" Angelo exclaimed. "You said you would go all the way!"

The twin Mecha looked at each other and then began to move away. "That was before the danger," they said in unison as they walked. "If this boy is as important as you say, it will be worth the price. We have to go now." And they did, disappearing outside the doors into a parking lot filled with cruisers of all sizes and shapes.

Angelo had no time to think. The door to the bay was hissing open and dark clad shapes were moving quickly onto the large platform. "Get in David," he commanded, jumping back into the drivers seat. David saw a face among the men. It was the man who preferred to be called Jeff, the _real_ one, and he looked very angry, pissed is how his Orga brother would have said it. David saw the man spot them, saw him pointing, shouting orders at the men with him. David could not hear what he said from this distance, but he could easily guess what it must be. He jumped into the craft and Angelo shut the doors and started backing out. Something smashed against the cruisers glass dome, but it was repelled and whistled away.

"They're shooting at us!" Angelo pointed out needlessly. And they were instantly off, moving quickly away from the bay and onto the main exit ramp. The sky was dark and brooding and the cruisers dome was already covered with rain that was wiped off by an invisible repellant.. "They won't be far behind, David," Angelo said."I wasn't supposed to be taking you. It was supposed to be the Twins!" he complained. But then his face set into a determined expression that David couldn't read.

"Who are they," David asked as Angelo banked into a row of cruisers where they might not be easily noticed. The vehicles were lined up at an entrance to the freeway, waiting for an open space to move into traffic.

"Rogue Morphing Bots," Angelo replied, "Friends of a friend who owed me a favor." But he stopped there and would explain no further. He had other things on his mind. The cruiser in front of them finally moved forward, onto the freeway and Angelo pressed the thrusters on the steering bar. They zipped into traffic, engine buzzing like an angry wasp, and shot into the fast lane. David tried to ask more questions: Where were they going? What would he do now? But Angelo ignored the inquiries.

"There are some clothes in the back, David. And a wristband. Put them on. Hurry now!" David looked into the back seat and saw the small pile of neatly folded clothing. He slipped out of his hospital gown and put them on as Angelo moved down an exit ramp and into an area that was covered with overgrown greenery. At the base of the exit he pulled the cruiser to the edge of the road and stopped. David tried to get his attention, but Angelo shushed him. The Mecha sat pensively for a moment, as if making a critical decision. Then without a word, he hovered onto the road and followed it into the forest.

"They've lost me," he said, as if to himself, and David saw something strange in the Mecha's eyes. It was a curious look; something like sadness.

"What's wrong Angelo," he said. But again, Angelo ignored his inquiry.

"Listen carefully, David," he said. "Things didn't turn out the way I'd hoped. But I told you I was not very good at making plans. If I'd had more time then maybe… maybe…" he stopped and seemed to gather himself. "That doesn't matter anymore," he said, thrusting his chin forward with an air of resolve. It was an odd gesture for a Mecha. "You're going to be on your own now. You must head west, toward the sunset, until you find a town. The wristband on your arm has updated maps of the entire state with current and last known residents listed. It's quite illegal data, especially for a little boy. So be careful. You just plug into any Data Kiosk you find and you can look for your family."

"But Angelo," David interrupted, "why don't you come with me? You can't go back now! They'll…"

"Listen to me!" Angelo yelled harshly. David was shocked by the outburst. The Mecha continued. "The wristband also contains false identities in case you are stopped. When you find a Kiosk make sure none of the identities trigger an Amber Alert. If one of them does, get away from that area quickly and delete that entry. There will be troopers coming to look for you. Now this is very important: Your new Teddy has a Security Snooper that allows him to download police alerts. Let him access the Kiosk and he can tell you what they know and what they are up to. But that too is very illegal so you must be careful when you use it. Do you understand?"

"Yes," David said meekly, wondering why his friend would not be coming with him. Angelo was quiet a moment, but David could tell that he should not ask any more questions.

"Things have changed, David," he said grimly. "And you're one of the reasons. Since your escape and many others that happened around the same time, there are new security measures to keep service Mecha like me from going rogue. The twins are older models. They don't have the new restrictions. As long as they are careful, they'll never get caught. But I was activated after the new legislation. And I …"

"What, Angelo? You what?" David asked after a moment of silence.

"I can't go far from my station," Angelo said finally. But he would explain nothing more.

They drove in quiet as the sky grew dark with ominous gray clouds. The rain had stopped but it was easy to tell the reprieve would not be long lived. Angelo slowed finally and pulled to the side of the road. He turned to face David and the boy saw again the oddly human expression on his Mecha face.

"I believe you, David. You given me more than you know. You've given me hope. But I can help you no further. You must go now. Go and find your family. Find your mother. Find your dreams.

"Never let them catch you, David. Never let them take away your dreams. Never…" But the Mecha nurse suddenly stopped and gazed on David with a strangely detached expression.

"Come with me, Angelo," David said. "I can take you to the Blue Fairy! I know where she lives! If you ask her, she can make you real too! Just like me! I know she will!"

Angelo said nothing.

"Come with me, Angelo!" David insisted. But Angelo just stared. His face was blank but his eyes full of a sadness that David did not comprehend. "Angelo?" he asked again. But Angelo was not responding. He would never respond again. David understood now what security measures his friend had been explaining, and what had been the price the Morphing Bot was talking about.

"We should go now, David." Teddy said in a logical voice. "A storm is coming."

"Angelo?" David said again. But he knew his friend was gone. His sadness was stronger than he'd ever known. Oh, this human condition! To what purpose this pain, this loss? He held back his tears, intuitively knowing that this was not the time or place for them.

"Goodbye," he whispered and pressed the release handle on the door. It whooshed open and David stepped out onto the mud-covered earth. The forest was alive beyond the edge of that road, and he was no longer impervious to the cold or the things that slithered and bit. But he had no choice now. He started on his way, but turned one last time.

"Thank you," he said with a break in his voice, waving, as he backed slowly into the forest, into what trials might lie beyond. But Angelo was no more than a mannequin now, gazing an eternal expression of surrender into the wet, gray world.

David turned, finally, and began his adventure, feeling the moist chill of the forest air on his new human skin as he stepped into an unpredictable future.

_(cont...)_


	5. Chapter 5

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress by **

**Bryan Harrison **

**Pt 5**

**1.**  
Night fell slowly, shrouding the forest in its black cloak. A chill grew with the darkness and David soon realized how inadequately he was dressed for this escape. He trudged with great difficulty along a thin path that had been worn into the overgrown tangle of brush and prickly weed. His shoes became wet and clogged with mud and his flesh stung from the frosty caresses of the night and the quick bite of buzzing insects that fed on him. They had never had a taste for him before. More than once did he cry out; more than once did he have doubts about making his fateful request to the Blue Fairy. And more than once did a have a new feeling, a bitter, green emotion that fell on his heart as he watched Teddy waddling casually along, ignorant of the cold and biting things.

In time the travelers came to a clearing that led up the slope of a small hill. When they'd climbed to its crest David took a moment to rest against the lone tree that stood there. It wasn't until he sat that he felt the full impact of the bites and scratches he'd acquired and realized just how tired he had grown. The slip of a crescent moon was making a slow ascent in the eastern sky. David watched wearily, remembering regretfully the warmth of his hospital bed as his body began to shiver without the exertion of walking to warm him. The biting things had finally relented. But the cold had not, and his hunger was just beginning.

"Where are we going?" Teddy asked, plopping down next to its new owner. David did not respond. He had no response. All he had dreamed of was being free and it wasn't until that wish had been fulfilled that he realized his plan would require more thought. Teddy waited for an appropriate period and then considered the possibility that David had not heard. So, it asked again. "Where are we going, David?"

It took a moment for David to remember that this Teddy knew nothing of his plight. "M-m-ma…" he started, but could not get the words out. He did not understand the bodily process that kept him from speaking. Instinctively, he hugged himself against the cold until some of his body heat returned. "Mommy's house," he explained finally, scratching at the irritating little bumps the bugs had left on his arms

Teddy considered David words. "Where is Mommy's house?" it inquired.

"I d-d-don't know, but I am sure we-we can ff-f-find it," David replied, hoping the bear didn't have any more questions. He didn't really feel like talking.

Teddy nodded, as if it understood everything. "You look cold, David," it pointed out. "Are you cold?"

"Ye-ye-yes, Teddy. I am co-cold." David managed. "Now w-would you pl-pl-please shut up?"

The bear did not seem daunted by this display of anger. It stood and leaned its furry body against David's leg. "What do you want now?" David snapped in annoyance. But then he felt the sudden warmth against his leg and quickly pulled the bear into his lap. David did not understand the purring sound Teddy made then, or the childish melody that it had began to hum. But the warmth the toy now emanated was all he was really after. He hugged Teddy close and in time fell into a sleep so sound that he was not disturbed when the rain began to fall.

Nor was he stirred by the odd strangers that passed quietly by on the dirty trail he and Teddy had followed.

**2.**  
It was a beautiful morning. The rain had cleansed the air and the sun was just poking its golden eye through the fluffy cloudbanks that lay on the eastern skyline. Birds were greeting the day with their song. A squirrel hopped up the side of the hill, sniffing out a morning meal. But David didn't notice these things. From the moment he awoke he was preoccupied with the hollow pain in his stomach and the queasy feeling in his head. He was also drenched head to toe.

"You're wet, David," Teddy observed. "You need some dry clothes." David considered a sarcastic response but decided not to waste his energy on anger. He rose slowly, feeling his head spin and his knees quiver. He finally managed to stand and scan his surroundings.

"Where am I?" he asked in despair. His voice fell flat in the dense forest. He was surrounded by thick trees, laden with low hanging branches. Below, at the foot of the hill, he could see the path they'd followed to get here. But shadows clung to the forest floor, making it impossible to see where the path led. "Angelo!" he screamed angrily and felt his head swim with the effort. "Where did you leave me?" he cried. Why hadn't Angelo planned better, he thought. Then his Mecha friends lifeless face came back to him and he felt a moment of guilt. Angelo had sacrificed everything for him… just like Joe had once done. He had to go on. Wordlessly, he started making his way down the hill.

"Where are we going now, David?" Teddy inquired.

"This way!" David snapped as he stepped onto the muddy trail. Teddy thought this was an insufficient reply but decided it was better not to ask any more questions. Neither of them noticed the fresh tracks that had been recently laid on the muddy trail.

It might have been a kilometer, it might have been five, David wasn't sure, but the sun was almost mid-sky when he finally came to a place where the forest cleared. He could simply not go any farther. His hunger was unbearable. He'd even tried eating the little red berries that he'd seen clustered in the bushes along the path. But he had quickly spit them out and been left with a sharp nasty taste that had stayed with him all morning. David fell heavily against a log and then jumped up with a shriek as something shot out from the muck beneath the log and slithered away into the brush.

"You jus gonna let dat git away?" a strange voice asked.

David turned quickly to see a horrible sight sticking out from the trees: a battered white face, torn and broken, its oversized bulging eyes roaming in all directions. The remnants of curly red hair were plastered against the cracked dome of its head. Wires wound through the metal wound like worms. David uttered a scream that got caught in his throat and stepped back, shielding himself from the sight.

"Well, ah'll git it den!" the bizarre thing said and jumped from the brush, running in a quick bouncing gate after the snake. David moved into the safety of shadows as the man-thing, dressed in a dirty baggy suit with torn frills at the neck and goofy oversized shoes, bounded into the brush and out of sight. The tall reeds of grass began to tremble and shake, and a din of warbling laughter broken by intermittent swearing came from the scuffle. But the commotion stopped as suddenly as it had begun. All was quiet.

David realized he'd been holding his breath and let it out with a sigh. Slowly he stepped out from the shadows and towards the path. As tired and hungry as he was, this was obviously the wrong place to rest. "Teddy," he whispered, gesturing for the little bear to follow as he tiptoed away, hoping to avoid another encounter with… the thing.

"Jeggs!" came the voice from the grass. The face popped up over the tall shoots, just as horrible as before, but now sporting a large toothy smile. A few of those teeth were missing however.

"Huh?" David asked hesitantly.

"Name's Jeggs!" the face said. "Like a J with eggs! Not Teddy. Who in the heck is Teddy?"

David started to sputter an answer when the thing jumped from the brush and uttered a loud, victorious bark. One of its big floppy gloved hands was on a hip and the other held high, clasping something proudly. It was the snake, now dead and dripping from where the head had once been. David shuddered at the sight.

"Our Lord will be happy!" he thing called Jeggs cried. "And when Our Lord is happy, we all get happy. Happy as pigs in poop!" Jeggs laughed, a bit manically for David's tastes, and then suddenly turned serious. Its deteriorating brow creased in concern. "What da hell does that mean anyway?" Jeggs asked, one of its eyes on David and the other looking to and fro

David shrugged and stepped back a little further. "I uh… can't really say. Never heard that before… I think."

Jeggs shrugged too. "Oh well. I guess pigs like poop and people is jus like pigs when pigs is being happy in poop! And dat's 'nuff 'xplainin; for me! Lunch is on da way!"

"Yeah," David said, backing away. "That's really great," he added, beckoning dramatically to Teddy who now seemed to be fascinated with Jeggs. One of Jeggs' roaming eyes noticed the little bear and then the other one followed so they were finally pointing in the same direction at the same time.

"Hey little toy!" Jeggs screamed and one of its eyes quickly locked on David. "Dat yours?" Jeggs asked.

"Yes," David said. "But, umm… we have to go now, sooooo…"

"Oh, Our Lord jus luv dose little toys," Jeggs chortled. "All the little toys of the world!" Then both of Jeggs eyes were suddenly on David. "You a toy too?" it asked excitedly. "A'cause you look like a toy and you know Our Lord jus luvs his toys!"

"No! No!" David replied quickly. "Actually, I'm a …a b-b-.." but he couldn't finish the word. Hunger and sickness had finally caught up with him. His head swam and vision blurred. He moaned as he felt his knees give out and the world went dark as he fell to the muddy forest floor.

"David!" Teddy called. But to David the sound seemed far away. He tried to resist the darkness but he couldn't fight anymore. He let it seize him and take him into a distant place where the pain and hunger faded into the clutter of meaningless information on the periphery.

As he faded, David felt himself being picked up by large strong hands, and carried off like the infant he had never been.

"Oh, Our Lord is gonna jus luv you!" David heard someone cry and then utter a strange warbling laugh as he slipped finally into unconsciousness.

_(cont...)_


	6. Chapter 6

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress by **

**Bryan Harrison **

**Pt 6**

David lingered on the edge of a dream. A face loomed before him, gentle and loving; gazing an expression of eternal compassion. He knew her; loved her. Longed to be with her again. But she was fading quickly. He tried to follow her back into the retreating Morphean realm, but his bed was hard and bumpy and caused his body pains that pulled his attention back into the 'real' world. He twisted and turned in an attempt to find comfort and return to his dream, but could not. Reluctantly he rose from his slumber only to be greeted by pain and sickness… and memories.

He moaned at the realizations. Of course this was not his hospital bed. That episode of his life was over, a matter of history. He was lying on the solid earth. He could smell it now: the damp, mossy odor of the forest, and a sharp burning smell that caused his stomach to jump. He opened his eyes to see dark trees looming over him. Whispers and odd noises seemed to float on the breeze that washed over his face. He tried to sit, to see who it might be. But he fell back as a wave of dizziness gripped him.

Then a face appeared. "Oh Lord! The toy boy is up 'n runnin'! He's runnin' jus fine!" it said.

David remembered that face and the comical voice that came from it, but found no humor in it. His stomach turned. He moaned. Somehow he had to explain to this crazy machine that he was no longer Mecha; that he now required sustenance to go on. He opened his mouth to speak but another voice came first.

"Shut up Jeggs, ya damned idiot!"

David shuddered. There was something spiteful in that sound. A bustle of movement broke out and then Jegg's voice came again. "Forgive me, Oh Lord," the robot intoned. "Thy will be done! Yessa! Thy Will!"

"Get yer metal arse out of my way!" said the other.

David turned his head toward the voice but saw only a flickering flame burning brightly in a shallow pit. He turned his head again and saw strange shapes sitting motionless amid the trees. He tried to focus his vision, to understand what he was seeing, but a dark shape suddenly blocked his path. It was a boot. He looked up to see a large robed figure standing over him. Its face was cloaked in the shadows of the forest, and obscured from the flame by a thick lapel. But David could see the malignant gaze of its eyes.

The figure said nothing but David could hear its ragged breathing. A man! It was a man, he realized. The dark man leaned over and seemed to study David's face. David stared back, unable to discern the dark man's features and too scared to utter a sound. This inspection went on for minutes it seemed. Then the man rose up quickly and let fall something to the ground. It landed with a muted clang just beside David's head.

"Eat!" the dark man commanded, as he walked away to sit before the fire. He was only a dark silhouette now.

David turned to see that the man had dropped a plate bearing something with a burnt aroma that caused a surge in his gut. His arm reached out automatically, and pulled the food to his mouth. There was something disturbing to the slick texture of the meat, but David felt his strength returning quickly as he devoured it.

"Chew yer food, brat!" the dark man scolded "Or it'll come back up faster than you shoved it down!"

Something in the man's voice commanded respect. David forced himself to chew slower.

"That's better." The dark man said. "Meat's hard enough to come by without you wastin' it."

David considered an apology but was too busy swallowing.

"See there!" Jeggs said, "The Lord provides for all his little toys! Din't I tell ya dat? Din't I?"

The dark man picked something from the ground and threw it. It struck Jeggs in the head with a hollow thud. "Shut up ya fiber freak or I'll put ya with the rest!" the man yelled. Jeggs hooted and scampered away to hide in the trees. David could hear it muttering its peculiar lunatic ramblings softly. "I should'a never messed with those damn personality parameters," the man muttered to himself as he went to work on his meal. "It's what happens when ya get bored, eh?"

David grunted a hesitant acknowledgment and then realized something was missing. "Where's Teddy?" he asked in alarm.

The man swallowed a mouthful before he responded. "What the hell is a Teddy?" he said.

"My bear," David replied quickly. "I had a bear with me. He has data…" David stopped himself, realizing it would be better to not share too much with this stranger. "He's my friend," he explained simply.

The man was quiet a moment, as if he was thinking over an answer. Then he shook his head. "Nope. No bear. No toys. Just you. Now finish yer food. I got no need for a sick brat on my hands."

"Jeggs knows!" David said quickly. "Jeggs?" David called. "Where's my bear?" But the dark man wheeled sharply.

"Mind yer mouth! I don't call for that damned machine until I need it, and I'll decide when that is! Now finish yer damn food and keep yer trap shut!"

David shrank from that attack. Angelo was dead. Teddy was gone. He was alone now. He wondered how he would get back to Mommy's house without the data in Teddy's head. But he had bigger worries for now. The dark man was obviously dangerous. He had to think of a plan of escape. He'd need energy. He scooped up his plate but realized that he had already finished his meal. He also realized what it had been: the snake Jeggs had caught and killed. The meat made his stomach roll a bit and left a peculiar taste in his mouth. But he felt much better. His strength was returning. He wiped his face with a forearm and sat up to study his surroundings, keeping an eye on the dark man lest he get another scolding.

He was surrounded by scattered mechanical debris, arms and legs and torsos; wires protruding from their broken joints. Amid the clutter sat lifeless forms, metallic and warped faces staring with blank eyes. Clowns with drooping smiles; motionless dancers in tattered tutus, a one eyed butler and a faceless maid, and so many others… Discards, he realized; abandoned Mecha. All of them were arranged as if in worship, their eyes cast to the sky in silent prayer, their faces locked in all manner of emotions. Joy, sadness, elation…

Fear. Chief among them was fear.

And there was something else. The whispers he had heard on the breeze had not been his imagination. They were coming from the still forms like the soft sighs of mechanical ghosts. They were not dead.

"What are they?" David asked and then cringed, thinking the man might scold him for speaking out of turn. He didn't. But when he answered there was a snarl in his voice.

"What the hell do they look like?" the man replied without looking up from his meal. "What are ya, daft or sumthin?"

"No, but I…" David started but didn't know how to continue. He thought for a moment. "I mean, what happened to them. Why are they… like that?"

"Like what?"

David looked at the frozen robots and didn't know why the man couldn't figure out what he meant. "I mean… they're kneeling like…" he stopped, thinking the rest must be obvious. He saw the man's shoulders lift in a dismissive shrug.

"Oh that." The man said with a snicker. "Ahh, that's just a little game I play. I get bored sometimes, ya know." He chewed and swallowed. "The way I figger it, they owe me their lives… or whatever is left of 'em. I can give it and I can take it away. So, I guess that makes me like a God to them, eh? The all-powerful king of the fiberhead buffoons. Wouldn't ya say?"

David had no response for this. He had no concept of Orga Gods and had no idea if this was an appropriate theological interpretation. Whatever information had been in his Mecha data banks had been lost when he became flesh. But even in his ignorance, he knew there was something very wrong here.

"If you're like a God," David said slowly, careful to not anger the man, "then why let them suffer this way."

"Wellll," the man drawled, "So I've got me a little philosopher!" The man barked a dry laugh that seemed to contain the bitterness of a lifetime. Even in his innocence to Orga life, David recognized the depth of hatred in that sound.

"It's what happens to us all," he laughed darkly. "Ya get old. Ya live longer than you're useful. Then nobody needs ya nomore.." The man shot a sneering glance at David. "So they grab ya up and dump ya in the woods so they don't have to deal with ya. Then time takes over and yer skin rots away, and yer limbs fall off and if yer lucky someone comes a long and takes ya out of yer damn misery!" The man was quiet a moment, his jowls trembling in the firelight. "If yer lucky, that is" he continued. "But luck is as rare as an Orga brat in the wilds, so more than likely ya wind up old and useless and dyin' in the company of yer lessers, like a common vagabond! Cast off and forgotten!" He coughed harshly and spat. David's unease had risen at the tirade. The man seemed to sense this and laughed again. David realized the man took pleasure in fear.

"Mecha. Orga. Either way, it's all the same. It'll happen to you too," the man said. "If ya live that long," he added with a dark chuckle and turned back to his plate.

His features were still obscured, silhouetted against the campfire. But David thought there was something familiar in the contours of his face. He rose to his knees, carefully, hoping to not ignite the man's anger again. Then he moved a bit closer, straining his eyes against the background of firelight to see the man's face. The man looked up and scowled at the inspection. A sudden chill grew inside David's heart. Memories from a life ago were disturbed from their rest.

"Who are you?" David asked, stunned.

The dark man did not respond at first. He rose and turned his back on David, to walk among the praying robots. They followed his passage with vacant eyes. He ran a hand over their heads as he strode among them, as if casting a blessing on the faithful. After a moment he spoke, but not to David. He spoke to the throng; his silent worshipers, the mechanical followers who knelt in programmed obedience and prayed in soft digital whispers.

"Ya know, I think I figured it out," the man said. "I've been working on it ever since that idiot came back with my dinner. I thought that just maybe it was one of those weird coincidences. But then I decided that was just my mind bein' lazy. So I worked on it. I figgered that someone must have stole his face, because it's illegal to dupe a living person… but that was years ago. And if they stole his face back then … that would mean… that would mean he'd have grown. Right? He'd be older… a teener by now! But he's the same!" The man cast his eyes on David again and roared. "_How in the hell can ya be the same?_"

David froze at the sound of those words. He fell back and tried to scamper away. But it was too late. The man moved quickly and stood over him. David could now see the man's face clearly in the firelight. It was older, covered in a thick beard and wrinkled from decades of hate and frustration. But the fire in his eyes was all David needed to recognize the man who had once tried to take his life.

Lord Johnson Johnson, fallen Orga hero and self appointed God of discarded Mecha, stared in perplexed awe at the impossible boy who cringed on the forest floor beneath him; the boy whose innocent pleas had crushed his kingdom and cast him among the discarded.

"It doesn't really matter now does it, lad?" Johnson growled. "However you came to be whatever the hell you are, doesn't really mean a damn thing! The way I figger it, you owe me. You owe me everything I ever fought for and lost! You owe me yer very life!" He reached down and grabbed David up by the collar. "And I'll have it, boy!" he screamed. "Oh yes, I will have it!"

_(cont...)_


	7. Chapter 7

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress by **

**Bryan Harrison **

**Pt7**

A fire had been built in a large clearing. David could not see it from where he lay bound, face down on the muddy forest floor. But he could hear the flames crackling as the fire devoured its feast of forest branches. He heard footsteps growing closer and then felt himself being roughly freed from his binds and hoisted up onto the shoulder of the madman that Johnson Johnson had become, had perhaps always been. The man laughed manically and started walking toward the flames that David could now see were surrounded by the man's unholy flock.

"Wot you fixin' on doin', Lord?"

The voice broke through the night and David felt Johnson Johnson stop. "Get yer damned metal arse outta my way!" the man bellowed. David looked over his shoulder to see Jeggs, pacing and fretting in Johnson Johnson's path.

"But you says you loves all the toys! All the little toys in da world!"

Johnson Johnson responded with a kick that sent the old Mecha backwards into the brush. "I'll deal with you later!' he bellowed as he made his way toward the flaming pyre. David struggled to no avail and then found himself set on his feet. Johnson Johnson was holding him from behind as he stepped closer to the flame, pressing the boy forward like an offering

The fire raged against the night, a violent beast of writhing flame whose tongues dashed into the darkness and licked at the swollen forest revealed in the malicious glow; spat mad embers that flared against the starlight and disappeared. The heat of it pressed on David's skin, ran furious caresses of heat over his face and exposed skin. He screamed and struggled against his captor's grasp. But Johnson Johnson only barked a vile laugh and moved closer to the fiery monster.

"Feel it, lad!" the madman laughed. "Don't be afraid! It's only the flames of Orga passion. Isn't that what you wanted … to know the passions of the flesh? Isn't that what led you on your quest of blasphemy?" He laughed again, and threw David back to the forest floor. The boy recoiled and rolled away. His face was hot, his hair smelt of singed flesh and felt like a sizzling cap against his skull. He rose to his knees and tried to escape, but his path was blocked by the encircling throng of simulants, lost in their voiceless prayers. He cried out and tried a escape in another direction. If he could get beyond the circle of Mecha he could run, take sanctuary in the dark. But the simulators shuffled on their knees to block him again.

"Why?" he roared at their frozen faces. He was once like them. He once knew their language, shared their digital morality. "Why do you just obey?" he screamed. But they offered no response. He shot forward, but they closed in again, arresting his flight to freedom.

"Where ya goin, boy?" the lunatic roared behind him. "Don'cha know there ain't no escape? Nobody breaks the rules! No one gets out alive!"

David saw Jeggs standing on the periphery of the throng, the dirty and torn cloth of his baggy suit rolling in the heat, his roaming eyes darting to and fro, focusing on nothing. David waved his arms frantically at the decrepit clown Mecha, imploring him to help. But Jeggs eyes would not stay on him.

"There ain't no help boy!" Johnson Johnson said gently, as if in sympathy. "Not this time. No crowds of whimpering softies ta come to yer aid." David was quiet a moment and turned a desparate gaze on the man. "Don't do this! I'm a boy... a _real_ boy! You can't kill me!" For an instant David thought he saw something breaking through the man's madness, a gleam in his eye that suggested a moment of clarity in the mind that gazed through them. But then the eye fixed on him and the gleam was glazed over by a cataract of rage and vengeance.

"I lost everything!" Johnson Johnson screamed. "And I was left only with my hate and my dreams of revenge. But now that my dream is coming true, I can see that you did me a great service!"

David was moving back, his eyes darting around for an avenue of escape. But Johnson Johnson's words caught his attention. Amazingly he found himself listening to the maniacal rant.

"I thought they loved me, see? … that I was their leader. I fought for them, built an empire fighting against the cancer of Mecha that had spread and corrupted the world. But oh, how they lied to me. How shallow their faith really was. And t'was you who showed me boy; you who showed me that I was never really their leader. When they chose you over my command, I understood that they were incapable of loyalty!" He smirked and lifted his chin to look down on David. "Now I have found those who are truly loyal: those who follow with no reservation."

David looked around at the mindless throng and finally understood. The revelation cleared his mind. Somehow his fear fell away and he saw his captor with new eyes. The man no longer appeared as a monster, some unstoppable force, but had become something pathetic and spiteful; a shriveled, insane creature. David bared his teeth with an anger he had never felt before. "You… you…" he started, but had no words to complete the realization that was forming in his new Orga mind.

Johnson Johnson laughed again and David gleaned from his voice a sense of the savagery the man had planned. "Had you come to me as you left, a Mecha, I could have forgiven you. Had you the malleable brain of an innocent, like those who were once your brothers." He flung his arm to gesture to the obedient, kneeling robots. "I could have programmed you too. You could have atoned for your trespasses through obedience. But instead you come to me with the deceitful heart of an Orga, wrapped in this treacherous, selfish, lustful body of flesh. And you shall burn in it!"

The sense of defeat and anger burned its own flame in David's heart. It was a primal thing that could not be contained; a living force that broke on his skin in an angry, cold sweat and built a scream in his throat. He had been here before, strapped to a post, ready to die for the pleasure of a throng of screaming Orga. And here he was again, in the clutches of insanity. The entire human race had been here countless time; splayed and torn open on the steps of Mayan temples, pinned like cattle in the ghettos of Warsaw, dying like lemmings in the jungles of Guyana, slaughtered on the bloody soil of Wounded Knee and hanging like strange fruit from the poplar trees in the haunted forests of Mississippi. Nanking. Dresden. Rwanda. Hiroshima. Humanity held hostage in the clutches of psychopaths.

But David knew nothing of the tragedies of Orga history. Even when the factual details of those things had been stored into his digital memory, he would not have understood their meaning. But now he did, and in the most visceral way. Something roared in his soul and erupted from him.

"_You are a lie!"_ he screamed. Johnson Johnson was taken aback. A bemused expression crossed his mad, determined features, spurring David on. "Everything you are is a lie. You can't lead anyone anywhere because you… you… aren't real! "

Johnson Johnson regarded the boy with surprised eyes for a moment. Then a sardonic smile spread on his cracked lips. A malicious mirth erupted from his belly and shook his entire body. But David's attention had been caught by something else; a small shape that appeared at the edge of the firelight and dashed into the throng of praying robots_. _

_David knew that shape!_

"They are not loyal to you!" he screamed, trying to keep Johnson Johnson's attention, trying to keep the madman from seeing what he had just seen. Johnson Johnson seemed only too happy to allow David to continue; seemed to take pleasure in the hatred coming from the boy. "They can't be loyal. They can't even make that decision. They can only be led like… like robots… mindless machines!" He didn't know where the words were coming from, didn't know from what dark corner of his new Orga soul they sprang, but he kept screaming. "And that is the only reason that follow you! If they could know you, if they could think for themselves, they would leave you!"

Jeggs had noticed the small thing now and David felt a surge of hope when he saw the beaten robot stop its frantic pacing and move towards the small thing to kneel and talk with it. Johnson Johnson was too lost in his victory to notice.

"You say that you were betrayed by the Orga at the Flesh Fair," David yelled, his voice breaking. "You blame them for … for listening to their… their heart and … and letting me go." His voice was catching as the horrific images of that fateful night came alive in his mind's eye. His heart raced. Tears streamed down his face. But they were not the tears of sadness. Nor was it fear that moved him. He was not just trying to keep Johnson Johnson's attention anymore, he was telling the man something, something that he had somehow just realized, and a thing that he knew Johnson Johnson's warped mind was incapable of understanding. "You say they deceived you and that… that they betrayed you! But you were never betrayed by anybody! _You_ are the betrayer! You betrayed them! You betrayed their hearts with hatred and fear! Because… because that's all you are and always were... a little, empty man who is nothing without hate!"

The words stopped Johnson Johnson's laughter like a slap in the face. The gleam came back into his eyes and for a moment it seemed he understood that he was looking at a small helpless child crouching in fear in the dark forest; suffering at his own hands, from his own madness. But the look disappeared just as fast as it had arrived and he raised a shaking fist, indecipherable curses gushing from his rictus grin. "No more words boy," he spat. "Time to find your salvation in the eternal flame!" He sprang at David but was stopped suddenly by a large gloved hand on his shoulder. He turned to see the broken features of the aged clown Mecha, the discarded Circus bot he had salvaged from the pits and put into his service. But the clown wasn't smiling anymore.

"You says you love all da little toys," Jeggs moaned in a tone that Johnson Johnson had never heard before. "But you a lie! You a lie!" the robot said and wrapped the man in a strong embrace. Johnson Johnson punched and kicked at Jeggs as it started moving. But the aged robot was stronger than he'd known. He roared in frustration., "I'll tear you too pieces you piece of junk! Put me down before I …" but his voice stopped as he realized where the robot was headed. "No! Jeggs! No!" Johnson Johnson screamed in a frantic whine. _"Nooooo…"_

His plea was cut short and the night erupted into a flurry of cascading embers as Jeggs jumped on powerful legs and launched them both into the mouth of the ravenous flames. The horror of the scream that followed made David wretch, and burned itself into his mind. He would never forget that sound or the sight of dark shapes moving against one another in the fire until there was no life left in them. The kneeling robots gazed at the firelight but made no move to help, or to rise or escape. Nor did they move to stop David when he broke from his shock and stepped around them to the place where Teddy stood, calling his name.

"David! David!" The little bear barked in its mechanical tone. David thought there had never been a sound he was so happy to hear. He grabbed Teddy up and held him close, snuggled his face into the toys warm fur, soaking it in his tears of joy and relief. "Teddy! You found me!" he cried. He so wanted to thank his new friend, to question him on what he had said to Jeggs, to apologize for taking him for granted and express the powerful emotion that was coursing through his veins. But there was a sudden whoosh of heat from the place behind him. David turned to see that burning logs of the pyre had fallen from the stack and rolled into a cluster of brush. The flame was already moving up the side of two large trees to continue its feeding frenzy on their branches.

"We'd better go now, David" Teddy suggested urgently. But David didn't need to be warned about the frailty of his new flesh. He had felt the heat of hatred enough before and could still feel the sting of its physical manifestation on his skin. He was running, racing into the darkness as the flames of Johnson Johnson's hatred spread into the forest and began to feed on the throng of silent worshipers. They knelt in robotic obedience, never fleeing for safety or even flinching as they were consumed in the flames let loose by the raging heart of their false messiah.

In time a fleet of airborne firefighters arrived and drenched the forest from large copters. The fire was quickly drowned and the investigators landed to try and make sense of the event. But there was nothing left that would help them understand the cause of the fire, and David and Teddy were already far, far away from the scene of another in a ancient line of pointless Orga tragedies.

_(cont...)_


	8. Chapter 8

_Note: Thanks to everyone who is following this story. I usually just write my best and post, and not worry about the response. But with you guys following along I feel a responsibility to please. That being said, this chapter didn't really go where I had originally intended. It's not bad but it strays from my loose synopsis. But after pecking at the keyboard all day I just didn't have it in me to start over. Hope it works for you. I actually already know the ending of the story, but that is still a long way off (hint, hint) and there are sure to be a few hits and misses along the way-BH_

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress by **

**Bryan Harrison **

**Part 8**

**1**

The sun rose behind low hanging bank of grey clouds through which only intermittent beams of light could pass. David lay in the gloom, rolling fitfully on a makeshift bed of damp leaves. The snake wasn't sitting too well and, therefore, neither was he. After a time, he jumped up and strode quickly to the bushes. He pressed his hands against a tree for balance and bent over until his spasms subsided. This had been going on all night and David had a vague sense that it was due to the events in the forest, with the madman Johnson-Johnson. But when his stomach had finally cleansed itself of the foul meal he'd ingested, he realized the snake was the culprit. Regurgitation was one of the uglier bodily functions and, even in the midst of it, David found himself again wondering how Orga carried on with all this pain.

But when he was through, and the snake finally gone, his head started to clear. His dark sense of pending doom was lifting as the sun warmed the land. He was feeling better. But then he took note of his condition and his mood sank again. His shoes and pants were covered in mud and dirt, his shirt stained and torn. He lifted his arm and took a tentative sniff. He moaned. He wasn't going to make much of an impression on anyone in this condition. He certainly did not want Mommy to see him like this.

And to top it off, after he had gone through such pains to purge the foul meat, he was hungry again. During his time in the hospital he had come to take meals for granted, never thinking how much effort went into obtaining the food necessary to sustain his body.

"How many times do I have to do this?" he asked aloud.

Teddy had been sitting against the tree with his motivators set to stand by. The toy was alerted by the sound of David's voice. "Do what, David?" it inquired. David shot a perturbed glance at the Mecha, wishing, for a moment, that he too had no need for food. But after a short bout with jealousy, he remembered why he had sought out the Blue Fairy and his determination came back.

"Nothing, Teddy," he said as he rose and did his best to brush the dirt off his clothes. "I have to find some food."

**2**

Civilization turned out to be not so far away. It was only twenty minutes later, 9:23am by Teddy's clock, that they came to mesh fence that separated the forest from a small asphalt lot. Beyond the lot lay a gathering of shining grey buildings, and beyond that, a cluster of quiet houses huddled in a quiet cul de sac.

"Orga," David whispered. He didn't know why he wanted to keep his voice low. He was excited and scared at once. Excited because he was now one of them. He wanted to walk among them, to be accepted and make friends. Scared because he still had something to hide. He was wanted. Even if he found Mommy today, he'd have to figure a way around that obstacle.

Teddy called to him. "Here, David," the toy said. David looked to see a slice in the fence as if someone had shorn it with scissors. There was a depression of cleared earth that led through the tear. David realized that this hole must be used regularly. He followed Teddy through the fence, working his way carefully past the sharp ends of the metal. He knew that his new body was vulnerable to cuts; and cuts could lead to infection.

When he was through the fence he stopped. He stood there for a time, wringing his hands, feeling his nerves strung tight. "Let's go now," Teddy suggested, the black beads of his eyes fixed curiously on David's hesitant stance. David knew that he really had no choice but he'd never had this kind of fear before; not when he was…

He let that thought fall away. He couldn't keep thinking about his other life. It was over now. He stepped cautiously away from the fence, out from the cover of the trees and onto the asphalt. Large poles shot up from the surface of the lot. Flat glass plates were attached to these poles, with nets hanging from circular rings of metal. David knew this shape but could not recall it from his data banks… he had no more data banks. But as best he could recall, they were harmless. He continued.

Mud that had dried on the bottom of his shoes crumbled underfoot as he walked. Even though it was daylight and anyone could see him, David had an odd desire for stealth. He scraped his feet against the ground until they the dirt fell off and he could walk in silence.

The buildings were angular, with walls of reflective glass, and arranged in a complex crisscrossing pattern with slate grey walkways between them. As they grew close David could see letters embossed on the biggest of the structures. He struggled with the words, remembering a time when he would have known instantly what was written there. Now he sounded the words out slowly.

"Nnnn.. New Shhhh… Shoooo. New Shores Hig… High! New Shores High!" he said, pleased that he'd been able to figure it out. But still the words made no sense. Teddy was already walking ahead so David forgot about the words and caught up. The asphalt ended at the barrier of another fence, and a walkway proceeded from there, leading to large passageway. David passed through slowly; unnerved by the sound of his footfalls resonating against the walls. Ahead of them lay another opening, and in the center of the walkway stood a strange object. David crept towards it slowly, expecting at any moment some alarm would go off, alerting invisible sentries to his presence. But it turned out to be only a metal tube that stood about eye level with him. David worked out the words written at the head of the thing.

"Data Ki…ki… Data kiosk!" he realized. Excitement renewed, David slipped the wristband from his arms, and sought for instruction on how to use the machine He noticed a flashing pad next to a series of buttons with numbers on their faces, and was about to place the bracelet over the pad when he remembered Angelo's warning.

"Teddy," he called.

David held Teddy up and the toy placed its palm against the pad. It only took a moment for it to find a path past the LAN and open a line to the Web. When Teddy was online an illegal snooper opened in its head and it quickly found what David was looking for: The State Police APB data feed. "There is an APB, David," Teddy said finally. "All jurisdictions are cautioned to be on the lookout for an abandoned boy known only as 'David'. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Approximately eleven years of age, sixty pounds, and four feet six inches in height. Parents unknown. D.O.B. unknown. CLA status unverified. Last seen in general vicinity of Trenton General Hospital." Teddy was silent a moment. "I cannot access any further details. They are restricted."

"Are there any…" David paused trying to remember the words. "Amber alerts?"

The bear was quiet again.. "Yes, David" it said after a moment.. "Three children are reported missing or abducted. A boy called Phillip and two girls."

"I don't need to worry about the girls… do I?" David asked.

"I don't know, David," Teddy said apologetically.

David set the bear down and stood at the kiosk. He dangled the bracelet above the pad, but didn't set it down. The bracelet contained the identity he'd need to use to get around the police and find Mommy. But Angelo had explained that if the identity triggered an Amber Alert there would be a police response and he'd have to leave quickly. He couldn't afford go back into the forest without food. But neither could he continue without an identity. He mulled over this problem for a moment, and then slowly he set the bracelet on the pad, expecting alarms to erupt all around him. Instead, he was greeted by a cheerful voice.

"Hello, Susan!" the kiosk said.

"Susan?" David blurted.

"And welcome to New Shores High," the kiosk continued, "Home of the Fighting Land Sharks! I am sorry but we're not in session at this time. If you have inquires about enrollment please leave your net address, or you can contact us via the web at…"

David didn't hear the rest. His attention was caught by three figures moving across the mouth of the hallway. They were dressed in tight, dark clothing and moving quickly over the ground. But they were moving faster than ordinary Orga feet could carry them. David slipped the bracelet onto his wrist and stepped away from the kiosk, hoping that the strangers wouldn't see him. But he was too late. The first of the three turned his head in David's direction and slowed. The others followed his gaze and then they all stopped. With a shock David now noticed that the dark strangers did not touch the ground but their feet were somehow floating a few inches above it. Were they Mecha? He smiled and waved a tentative greeting.

The three did not return the wave. They stood motionless, staring. Even in the distance David could see the suspicion in their eyes. He sighed when the strangers started floating slowly in his direction. But as they moved closer David could see that they were boys about his age… or the age he was supposed to be. The first one was fair, with wavy blonde hair and a snide smirk on his, otherwise, cherubic face. The second was dark skinned and his hair clung to his scalp in tight curls. He looked at David with a skeptically raised eyebrow. The last, the smallest of the three, was a pale looking boy with fiery red curls atop his head and freckles along the ridge of his nose. This one looked as if he had something to prove.

All three were clad in skintight suits with a single red stripe down the side; and hovering over the ground on thin black boards. David was fascinated by the boards as the boys glided in slow circles around him.

"Wazza, kid?" the blonde boy said at last, a challenge in his voice.

"Wa…uh.. what?" David asked.

"Wazza! Don't you know English?"

"Yes, I do," David replied. "I remember…uh, I know most of it… all of it, actually."

The blonde looked at his friends and they shared a laugh that David didn't understand.

"Waaza!" The boy repeated. "Grok? As in wazzit? Wazups? Wazapps, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera."

The boys continued circling as David struggled with the words. When he was sure he could make no sense of them, he shrugged. "I'm sorry," he said. "But I am not sure that I-"

"What's your twenty," the dark kid interrupted, impatiently.

David pondered this for a moment. "uh… I'm only 10?" he replied, hoping this was the right answer.

"Kah! Freek geek!" the red haired boy laughed. "Wazzup with the mud on ya ropes? You vaggin?"

David could only reply with a perplexed expression.

The boys exchanged tight glances and then stepped off their boards. In a unified move that must have been rehearsed, they kicked downward causing the boards to flip up into their hands. They continued circling David, but on foot now, and much closer. David could feel their breath as they shot questions at him.

"I said what's up. Like, what're you doing here?" said the blonde kid.

"Yeah, and where you from?" asked the dark one.

"Yeah and what's with the crap in your clothes? You a vagrant?" said red.

David didn't know where to start answering. "I was just… uh, I'm from… uh… I just.." He gave up with an exasperated sigh. "I need food," he admitted.

The boys exchanged knowing glances. "He's vaggin!" they said together and broke into laughter. David watched the boys laughing and slapping each other's hands. He quickly decided he'd had enough.

"It was… nice meeting you," he said. "But I really have to -" The blonde boy was suddenly standing chest to chest with him. There was a look in his eyes that David hadn't seen since the night Martin had sent him on his fateful quest for Mommy's hair.

"Did I cut you loose? A'cause, I don't remember cutting you loose," the boy said quickly, cocking his head to the side. David didn't understand the meaning of the boy's head movement any better than his words, but was intimidated nonetheless

"I have to go find some food now," he said, politely. He was starting to feel dizzy again. He didn't want to pass out, like he had in the forest.

"Skin or tin?" The dark boy asked, a new menace in his eyes. David screwed up his face in confusion. "Your crew," the boy clarified. "You vaggin with flesh or fiber?"

David thought he knew this one "I'm a boy," he replied confidently. Was that all this was about?

"I said your crew!" the boy yelled. "I can tell you're a skin by the stank comin' off ya!" The boys all laughed and slapped each other's palms again. David moaned and tried to leave, but he was quickly surrounded. The blonde haired boy bumped hard against him.

"Play nice!" Teddy commanded.

The boys shot amused glances at the Supertoy. "Awww, how cute," said the blond. "I'll bet you like to dress it up sometimes, huh? And pretend you're having the girls over for tea?" David tried to move away again, but the red one intervened, blocking his path.

"We'll let you go… when he know… we got all the fo," the boy said.

The blonde boy took his eyes off David and shot an irritated look at red. "The fo?" he asked.

"Yeah," red replied, defensively. "You know, the 'fo'…. like info."

The dark kid guffawed. "Kah, Scooter! That's DAS! When'd you dream that one up?"

"F.O., Drake! It makes sense." Scooter replied. But his friends continued to laugh at him. The boy blushed and planted his hands on his hips, pouting until they finished.

The blonde turned his attention back to David. "What's your name?" he said. It was the first question that David understood. But he realized he couldn't tell them his real name. There was an 'APB' out for him… whatever that was. He had to use the name on the bracelet… the one the kiosk had called him… and unfortunately that had been…

"Susan," David said weakly, knowing what was coming.

The three boy's jaws dropped in a look equal parts disbelief and unbridled joy. "Kaaaah!" they yelled in unison. Then they fell into laughter again. "O-M-F-G! This just gets better and better!" said the boy named Drake.

The blonde boy forced himself to be serious and pressed his finger against David's chest. "OK, Miss Susan," he said, "I'm Corey. And I'm sooo sorry we huffed at your name but… see, we all have guy's names… like normal and everything, grok? And we all take showers so we don't stank like a ceptic tank… and we don't live in the shrubbies with the vags or the fiberheads, so you'll have to excuse us if we come off a little intolerant and dickish, etcetera.

"But we're generally a good natured crew…" he turned to his friends. "Aren't we guys?" The others nodded with exaggerated looks of sincerity on their faces. "See," Corey said. "But since we can't use our power boards on the public tracks anymore, we sort'a claimed this court, grok? And we can't allow trespassers…. even normal ones… but especially not a vag fag dressed in rags." The others laughed dutifully.

"But like I said, we're usually all nice and cuddly, etcetera, so we'll let you go if you can just pass one little test"

David missed most of Corey's words, but the idea was clear. "OK," he said, hoping it would soon be over. His stomach was beginning to twist. "What shall I do?"

Corey chuckled again. "You 'shall' ride," he mocked. He held a hand out to Scooter. "Flip it," he said. Scooter's cocky expression changed into one of a petulant child. "Why me? Let him ride yours!" he cried. But Corey just continued holding his hand out and the other boy finally relented, handing over his board. Corey pressed it against David's chest and let go. David caught it before it fell.

"Bitch Match," Corey explained. "Mano-a-mano. Three strikes," he said, holding up an equal number of fingers. Then a dark smile spread on his face and he cupped two of his fingers away so that only one very significant finger was left standing. "Death mode."

Only one word caught David's attention. "Death?" he repeated.

Cory's dark smile turned into an even darker glare. He flicked a switch on his board and flung it to the ground. It hummed viciously over the asphalt. Corey jumped on it and shot over the court. He spun dizzying loops, then cut back and forth with blinding speed, his board buzzing like an angry wasp. He spun again and then shot towards the fence, banked a turn against it and leveled out. He stopped suddenly, and started pressing his legs back and forth in a teeter-totter fashion. After a few repetitions of this movement, the boy was bouncing high into the air, higher than David's stood; then coming back to earth and bouncing up again. On the last bounce Corey crouched low, pressing the board so close to the ground that it seemed to snarl, and then shot so high that the boy glided smoothly over one of the hoops suspended above the court, and then hovered smoothly back to earth.

Corey spun a few quick loops before humming slowly towards David. "Death mode, beeeatch!" he said, slapping his friend's hands as he passed.

"I don't know how to do that," David pointed out.

"Do or die, or do and die anyway," Scooter laughed.

Corey nodded to acknowledge that Scooter had made a good one this time. "Let's play, Little Suzie," he said, and reached over to flick a switch on the board in David hands. It began to vibrate so violently that he dropped it. It fell to just inches above the ground and began gliding away slowly.

"Don't let my board cruise!" Scooter yelled, pushing David towards the board. David jumped and landed almost inadvertently on the power skate's smooth black surface. Instantly, it seemed, his feet were somehow glued to the thing. He tottered back and forth for a moment, trying to stay standing. But when he leaned back to correct his balance, the board shot out from under him. David hit the asphalt in a painful heap. Stars erupted behind his eyes. His breath whooshed out of him. He writhed in pain for a moment, and then he rose to hear Teddy complaining, and scolding the boys.

Corey was hovering a small circle around the angry Supertoy. When he saw David was getting up he made a quick twist of his legs and his board bumped Teddy on the head, sending the bear sprawling across the court. "Ooops," Corey said, nonchalantly. Then he cruised close by David.

"One strike for you," he said with a smile.

David was about to try and reason with the boy. He didn't know how to ride. He was tired and hungry. But something was moving in the back of his head. It was red and pulsating, this thing. It came into his face and his brows pinched as a dark thought came to the foreground of his mind.

"OK," David said. "Let's go."

"Kah!" Corey said happily.

But Drake suddenly intervened. "Screw it, Core," he said, a hesitant look on his face. "The vag's a tard. Let him cut out. Let's glide." But Corey was obviously having fun. He dismissed Drakes suggestion with a flippant wave. "Only two strikes to go," he said. Drake shot an impatient glance at David. But there was something else in his eyes; something that suggested he felt Corey was getting out of line.

The board hadn't gone far. Without a rider it had slowed after about twenty feet, and was now moving away at a snails pace. David brushed himself off and ran to get it. He placed one foot hesitantly on the black surface and the thing stopped, purring under the weight of his leg.

Drake was suddenly beside David, moving in graceful circles and speaking in a language that David could understand. "Hey, vag. Bend your knees like this. Hold your arms out for balance. Lean forward and push your foot back to go forward, lean back and push the front to slow down. And turn like this." He executed a quick circle. "And keep your feet flat or you'll break the membrane seal and fall off." Drake moved back and forth gracefully, and then spun a few more quick circles so David could see how it was done. David watched the boy's feet and thought he understood the principle.

"Don't try any tricks, kid." Drake warned when he was through. "You're gonna get your butt kicked anyway, so just get it over with."

David looked up and smiled at the boy. Drake frowned and rolled his eyes, but David thought he saw a quick wink there too. Drake shot away. David jumped atop the board and felt his feet lock again. He bent his knees and fought to keep his balance. The board hummed under his feet, and started moving slowly ahead. David followed Drakes instructions and found it to be easier than he had thought. In a few moments he was moving forward quickly. But the edge of the court was coming. He managed to slow and then stop and move backwards. He mimicked Drakes movement and actually laughed when he felt the board start to turn beneath him. This was... fun! He leaned back automatically to compensate for the tilt and laughed again. Learning to move was easier now than it had been in his former life. His brain seemed to be programming itself, calculating balance and speed and distance with automatic precision.

Corey was suddenly circling him and sneering. "Lessons over, vag fag. Time to rock."

"Then let's rock," David yelled back. He shot forward, feeling the air rushing against his face, and a sudden unexpected thrill racing through his veins. It was majestic, this feeling. He almost forgot he was hungry as he glided quickly over the surface of the court. One of the posts was coming quickly. David leaned and turned the board, uttering an involuntary "_Yes!_" as shot quickly around the post, hearing it _whoosh_ as he sped by. He was trying to level out of the turn when he heard a snarl behind him. He turned to see something black speeding towards him. A moment later it had moved above him. David felt Corey's board connect with the top of head and found himself laying on the asphalt again.

"Strike two," Corey laughed.

The red vibrating thing came back into David's mind and he quickly pushed himself up through his pain and humiliation. The board was only few feet away. Corey was hovering a few yards beyond that, slapping palms with Scooter and Drake. David found himself moving automatically. His pain was gone. His hunger forgotten. All that was left was a new level of anger that burned in his chest. He ran to the board and jumped onto its surface, felt his feet lock; leaned forward and pushed back. The board shot forward.

"The vag!" Scooter yelled.

Corey turned just in time to see David hit him. The boys spilled from their boards and onto the asphalt. David was up instantly. "Strike one!" He yelled and raced for his board. Corey was stunned. But he quickly regained his senses and was onboard immediately after.

"Kah, vag fag! Good one! Now feel my wrath!" The boy sped at David, his arm cocked and ready to strike. David tried to duck but the boy was too fast and he felt the world spin around him as he was knocked to the ground again.

"Steee-rike three! And you're outta heeeere! " Corey laughed as he glided a victory loop. David's head hurt. His back hurt. His mind raged. These boys knew he couldn't compete. This was unfair. It was cheap. The injustice meshed with his humiliation to form a perfect storm of rage. He jumped up and raced for the boy. A moment later he was on the asphalt again. But this time Corey was beneath him. David's fists flew. Spittle and indecipherable screams of outrage erupted from his mouth. He felt his fists connect with Corey's face; felt Corey's connect with his. Something hit him from behind. He looked up to see Scooter and Drake were on him too. Their fists beat against his head. Their feet pounded his legs and arms. David lashed out at the three boys, screaming pitifully. He had been minding his own business. He had only wanted something to eat! _"Leave me alone!_" He screamed.

"_Hey!"_

The voice was deep and commanding. The boys parted, leaving David to lay crumpled and whimpering on the asphalt. He looked up through tearful eyes to see another group of boys gliding smoothly across the court. They were older, larger. They wore no uniforms, only torn and ragged shorts with bits of metal sewn into them, and strange symbols drawn crudely on their t-shirts.

The largest of the boys rode close to David. He was a heavyset kid, with wavy dark hair that hung into his face. He looked at David a moment and then set a look of mock disgust on the younger skaters. "What're you freeks doin messin' with the vagrants again?" he said. "Didn't the cops already warn you 'bout that?"

Corey jumped up and started wiping at the white stains the asphalt had left on his leotard. "Kah, Todd. The vag fag messed with us. Grok? We was just TCB'n for the twenty." David didn't try to argue with this lie. But he felt a strange satisfaction knowing he was responsible for the bruises already forming on Corey's face.

The older boy smirked and his friends laughed. Their deeper voices held a menace that made David's assailant's step back. "Get off that gibberish, Corey, you little effing tard. That supposed to be cool or something?" The large boy said. Then he looked at David and something strange crossed his face. David cringed under the look but after a moment realized that it wasn't really spiteful; that it was more like… amazement? "Yo, Marty, check this out." the older boy said, beckoning over his shoulder.

A tall, skinny boy glided up beside the heavyset one and looked down at David with suspicious eyes. David returned the gaze defiantly wondering what kind of trouble these large kids had planned. But as he looked into the other boy's eyes, something flashed in his mind.

"You little jerks cut out," the tall boy said without taking his eyes off David. There was something strange in his voice.

"Kah?" Corey yelled. "K-M-A! We were riding this court before you guys!"

The tall boy kicked his board into sudden life and zipped over the court with amazing speed. A moment later Corey was laying on the ground, moaning and rubbing his head. Scooter and Drake had already got the point and were quickly racing away.

"Grock that, you little snot," the tall boy laughed as he zipped circles around Corey, passing so close that he caused the blonde boy's hair to ruffle. "I'm counting to five," the older boy said, "and if you're still here, that board is mine. One. Two. Three…."

Corey didn't wait to find out if the threat was real. He shot a rude gesture over his shoulder as he sped away but the older boy ignored it. He zipped close to David, and stopped. He kicked his board so that it flipped up and landed neatly under his arm. Then he looked down on David and scratched his head.

David studied the boy, thinking there was something familiar about him. He was tall and thin, his hair straight and black, dangling over his shoulders. He wore tattered blue pants that had been cut at the knee and a wrinkled plaid shirt with menacing words scrawled on the sleeves.

_But his eyes! _David knew those eyes.

"Martin?" he whispered in awe.

Martin Swinton stepped backwards, his face twisted in shock and disbelief.

"No way," he muttered. "No effing way."

.


	9. Chapter 9

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress by **

**Bryan Harrison **

**Pt9**

David tried to chew slowly; the way Dr Chen had shown him. He knew he could get sick and throw-up again and he didn't want to repeat that particular experience. But he was so hungry that the second sandwich Martin had bought him was disappearing as fast as the first

Martin had finally stopped pacing and was now sitting on the bench beside David, watching him intently. His looked of stunned disbelief had finally dissipated to be replaced by a dark skepticism. David knew Martin did not believe him, but was too consumed in his long overdue meal to care. Todd and the others were on the court pretending to be immersed in skating. But David knew they were watching everything. They kept glancing over. Martin had shooed them away when they tried to approach and they'd retreated only after he threatened "grievous bodily harm". Only Todd was undaunted by these words. Of all the boys there, only he was larger than Martin and only he remembered Martin's birthday party… the day he'd met the little Mecha boy by the pool; the day his calloused actions had set in motion the events that led to David's abandonment. But Todd kept his distance out of respect, or perhaps guilt. Or possibly the nagging certainty that Martin was talking to someone whose existence defied the very laws of nature.

Martin let out a long sigh, as if whatever mental calculations he'd been going through had exhausted him. "Ok, let's go through this thing again," he said, interlocking his fingers and biting his lower lip nervously. "You're …I mean, you believe that you were a Mecha that used to belong to my-"

David waved his arm to interrupt Martin. He swallowed quickly. "I _am_ David!" he said. "I mean, I was … I mean… I don't know how to say it. I was Mecha and now I am real."

Martin guffawed and rose to his feet. "Look, kid that's…. It's just not effing possible! OK! So drop it!" He was pacing again, wringing his hands and shooting quick glances at David. His skeptical expression was turning to anger. David had seen that look before.

"Remember the night you sent me to cut Mommy's hair?" The words seemed to sting Martin. His gaze froze on David. It was unreadable. David had only meant to prove himself with these words, to speak of something that only he and Martin could know. But there was an accusation in his voice that he had not intended.

Or had he?

Later he would not know.

He continued, knowing he was saying all the wrong things, but unable to stop himself.

"You tricked me! You sent me there to…to," he was getting too emotional, he knew it. He stopped and took a deep breath to compose himself. It didn't really work. "You knew what was going to happen, Martin. And you knew that I didn't understand. I could have hurt her! I almost cut her eye! Why? Why did you do that?"

But Martin didn't seem to hear the question. A new light had come into his eyes. He turned and pointed an accusing finger at David. "You met it didn't you!" he said.

"What?"

"You met the Mecha when it ran away. Maybe you were in the woods… or maybe you were at Rouge City. Yeah!" His voice was rising as he spoke; growing more excited as he felt he had finally come upon an explanation. "And … and you met the Mecha and it told you all this stuff about me and Mom and … and that's why you know so much! Dammit! I knew there had to be a reason. It's the only way that…" but his words stopped when his train of thought crashed into an impassable barrier of logic. His gaze turned dark again and he plopped down on the bench, shoulders slumped, defeat in his face.

"Noooo," he moaned. "That's stupid. Dammit! None of it makes sense!" He placed his head in his hands, groaning. "This isn't happening," he muttered to himself.

The hoverboards had grown quiet. David knew Martin's friends were watching, wondering what was going on between them. Only Todd would have even the slightest idea. But David did not return their looks and didn't care what, if anything, was going on in Todd's mind.

He knew he couldn't continue his accusations. It would only send Martin into another rage and that would entirely defeat his purpose. He had to try a softer approach. He thought hard, trying to plot a course through this complex maze of human emotions. After a minute of introspection, it came to him.

"The man at the hospital said I was gone for two years," David said. His tone was soft now, vulnerable. Martin glanced out from behind his hands. His brows were pinched but there was curiosity in his eyes. David returned his look and shrugged as if perplexed. "How'd you … how'd you get so big so fast?"

Martin's expression didn't change. There was an empty moment when his reaction could go either way. But finally the boy lifted his head up and laughed. David smiled and laughed too. It was the best sound he had heard all day.

"Oh, man. I must be crazy for talking to you," Martin said. He breathed a moment as if undecided on how to continue. Then he chuckled. But there was something sad in the sound. "Well, it got real crazy after you…" he shot another undecided look at David, then continued. "… after you left. Mom was a mess. She blamed everyone for everything. Joined some class action suit against Cybertronics. But it didn't go anywhere and she…" Martin stopped there. His mouth worked silently on something he wasn't ready to say. As much as he wanted to know, David knew better than to press him. Finally Martin continued down a different path.

"I started growing really fast. Frazy said that I would-"

"Frazy?"

"Uh, Doc Frazier. He's the guy who took over my case when I was still under the ice. Anyway, he said I would start to catch up with my age once the cryo-prep stuff wore off, and he wasn't BS'ing. I must have picked up damned near a foot in a year. And man, it hurt!" Martin grimaced at uncomfortable memories. "I had to take so many pain killers that Dad was worried about me getting hooked and took me to one of those brain places... where they use harmonics on your pain centers. That worked pretty good. Got rid of most of the pills anyway. But after a year or so the pain started going away and I was …" he sat up and spread his arms. "…like this."

"Wow. You look great," David said, knowing it sounded fake, but feeling he should make some type of acknowledgment. Martin seemed satisfied and folded back into himself.

"I still get back aches now and then, but Frazy said that's pretty much normal. It'll go on like that for a few years but I'll be OK." Martin fell silent then, his gaze set on the ground at his feet.

Somehow David knew he shouldn't ask about Mommy; that Martin would talk about her when he was ready. "And Henry?" he asked instead.

Martin looked up suddenly, as if he'd dozed off and forgotten where he was; who he was with. "Oh…. Well, Dad's cool. Same old guy he's always been. He was a bit crazy the first year, fretting over me all the time… you know, until I got better and everything. Wouldn't even let me get near the pool, not after that crap at the party!" Martin laughed at this but David looked away. Martin noticed his discomfort and stopped laughing. A quiet moment went by. In an unspoken agreement they decided that matter was best left to the past.

"Well, then Dad finally chilled a bit... when I get better that is. He's still with Cybertronics and everything. That lawsuit crap put a lot of strain on things. But he and Mom worked it out somehow. But she never really got over…" Martin fell silent again. He dropped his head and he started kneading his fingers again. He was mumbling something that David could not make out.

David had to know. "What Martin? Tell me."

The change was instantaneous, unexpected. David couldn't have seen it coming. Martin stood, imposing in his painfully won stature; his face now twisted and unsympathetic.

"What in the hell are you?" he yelled. "Why in the hell did you come back?" He stopped himself and shook his head like he was trying to wring the thoughts out of his brain. "No! No! No!" he yelled. "This is effing BS man! It's impossible. You aren't real. You're some kind of freak!"

"No, Martin," David said patiently. "It's all true. I'm-" But he didn't have time to finish this thought.

Martin was suddenly on David, his hands holding the boy's collar tight, his face pressed so close that his breath was hot on David's face. This wasn't the same boy who had just bought David sandwiches from the vending machine; who had just shared the painful details of his recovery. This was the other Martin; the one who had tricked him into cutting Mommy's hair, the one whose mind had been twisted by jealousy and hate when he'd come home to find he had been replaced by a machine.

"You want to know about Mom? OK, I'll tell you, freak. You almost drove her crazy! She went on and on about you…. About how she betrayed you; about how she couldn't let them kill you so she left you in the forest! She kept going back looking for you for months!. She'd leave in the middle of the night and stay out til morning, driving all the way to Haddonfield and Shadow Creek, up and down the Delaware, looking for you! She'd come back crying and dirty from walking through the woods. Dad had to get her a doctor. They had to drug her to keep her from hurting herself! Dad finally got her to stop looking for you and then she started taking it all out on Cybertronics! She'd start yelling at Dad, saying it was all Hobby's fault for trying to play God! She wanted Dad to quit! They almost got a divorce. And it was all because of _you!_"

The words ripped into David's mind, coursed through his body and embedded in his heart. He wanted to tell Martin to stop, that he knew it was all spiteful lies; that he was only jealous because David had returned to take his place by Mommy's side. But he couldn't move. He couldn't breath. He could only gaze with horrified eyes as Martin's vengeance was unleashed.

"Dad even tried to get her another one of you fakes! That's how desperate he was! He was actually going to buy one for her because he thought it would bring her back to sanity.! But she actually said it wasn't you! As if you were actually a real-"

_"Play nice!"_

The mechanical voice broke Martin from his rage. He turned to see Teddy waddling towards them, his little arms raised to ward Martin off. Martin's brow wrinkled and he shook his head slowly. It was too much like before. "No, this is too unreal. This is…"

"Martin!"

It was Todd this time. Martin looked over to see his friend gesturing towards something behind them. David noticed the gesture too and they both turned to see a man approaching from the direction of the silent cul de sac. They could hear him as he came closer.

_"Hey, you kids! Leave that vag alone! Go on now before I call the police! I'll do it! Believe me!"_

Martin let go of David's collar, realizing how it must have looked. Teddy had arrived now, and his mechanical voice was added to the mix as he scolded and insisted that this manner of play was unacceptable. Martin's face was lost, indecisive for a moment. Then he looked down on David and new resolve grew in his features. He reached into his pocket and David had a moment of fearful anticipation before Martin pulled out a wallet. He thumbed through it and hissed.

"Todd!"

Todd ran over. "Hey, let's get out of here, Marty. That guy looks pissed."

"Gimme some newbucks." Martin ordered.

"What?"

"Whatever you got on you."

"What? For him? No way! What the…"

_"Give me the money!_" The rage in Martin's voice silenced Todd. After a quiet moment he pulled out a leather pouch and emptied it into Martin hands.

The man was moving slower now that Martin had let go of David, but he was still coming. Still yelling. _"What're you kids doing? Is that a little boy? You let that boy go!"_

Martin reached down and tucked the wad of NewBucks into David's hand. "You heard the man," Martin said. "It's time to go. You got nuff money there for a while. Get on out of here." Then he pushed his chest up and the look in his eyes said he meant business. "And don't ever come back," he added.

Todd's eyes roamed quickly between Martin and David and the angry man that was slowly approaching. "Soooo… it's really him?" he asked, his eyes finally settling on David.

"No." Martin replied quickly, resolutely. "He's just some kind of stupid vag con artist."

"Then why you giving him money? My money?"

Martin didn't answer. He had no answer. His eyes were set coldly on David. "Go on," he repeated.

"Martin, please." David didn't want to cry; didn't want to sound pathetic and desperate. But his dream was collapsing right before his eyes. Everything he had come back for was being washed away. His voice was choked and tears began to flow. "Martin, please don't send me away. Pleeeease. I want to see her! Just once. I need to. It's the only reason I-"

"Hey kid!" the man was closer now, close enough that he didn't have to yell to be heard. "Why you crying? What're those boys doing?" he asked. "I'm calling the police."

Martin's grimace turned into a smirk. "You heard the man, David. He's calling the police. Aren't they looking for you? You'd better run. Ya think?"

David wanted to plea, to crawl on his knees and beg, but he knew it would do no good. If the police came, and he was caught by the man named Greig, or Jeff or Frank or whatever the hell his real name was, then he'd never see the light of day again. If he ran now, he'd be free to try again. The cold logic of this made it's way through the heat of his emotions and he stood and wiped his face.

Another feeling was growing inside him as he returned Martin's hard stare. It was not desperate. It was not sad. It was something new. Something cold... and dark.

He grabbed Teddy up and started backing away towards the forest. He would hide there, he decided, long enough to hatch the plan that was already forming in the back of his mind.

The intervening man was standing a few yards away. He was on his cell, talking to someone. David couldn't make out the words, but he could guess that the man was describing a dirty little vagabond child that was running back into the trees. The police would be on their way. Maybe the CLA. He turned and began to run.

In moments he was making his way through the fence and into the lush woods. He turned once more to see that Martin was still staring at him. He returned the hard gaze for a moment before he slipped into the shadows of the trees.

"We'll meet again," he whispered to no one, sensing that the new dark emotion inside him might grow into something dangerous… and knowing there was probably no other way to achieve his goal.

(cont...)


	10. Chapter 10

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress by **

**Bryan Harrison **

**Pt 10**

1

Time is not linear. Nor does it move unbroken from one point to another. It had once seemed so, when his heart beat with the mathematical regularity of a machine, and his days had passed seamlessly into night and then day again, unbroken by sleep or dreaming. But that was then. Now David realizes that time cannot truly be measured by numbers. It fluctuates; swells and folds in on itself, like a living thing…. or perhaps like flowing water might.

He had no words for this understanding but it came to him as he broke from sleep, still trailing the remnants of a strange dream, to find himself in darkness, shivering under a black canopy of trees. He tried to keep the dream images in his head, so to sort them out and understand the nature of that other world, and his odd realization. But all he could recall was a haunting world of undulating blue, before the visions finally dissipated.

He looked up to see starlight breaking through the trees, and the thin slip of a crescent moon already making its descent in the west. He heard the faint groans of man's technological empire awakening in the distance, and the closer sounds of wildlife in the dark about him. They too were awakening, preparing for another day of survival. He sat for a time, with his strange thoughts, listening to the musical clicking of the insects, the throaty grunting of frogs and the lonely howl of canine predators.

"What time is it Teddy?" he asked. He heard a thin metallic sound and knew the little bear was turning its head to look at him. David could not return that gaze for he could not see in the dark anymore. He felt another pang of regret.

"It is 4:35 in the morning,." Teddy explained. "That is very early, David. You need more sleep."

"Yeah," David replied. But he knew he could not go back to sleep. Martin's face had come into his minds eyes…as did the words the boy had spat at their encounter. The new, dangerous feeling came back too. It brought images into his minds eye; wild, angry visions that made him unconsciously grip his fists and clench his jaws tight. These thoughts always followed his memories of Martin. The acid feeling they left in his stomach was new and troubling. But there was pleasure there too, pleasure in the plans that had been forming in the dark places in his mind. In the conclusion of these fantasies, Martin was always left cowering, begging for forgiveness and… mercy.

Yes. Mercy.

"_No, David, no,"_ the cowering fantasy Martin would say. _"Don't do it, please."_

Don't do what? David was never sure.

Nor was he certain how many days had passed since he had seen the real Martin. He could not tell how far he had traveled as he he'd trekked slowly westward, following the path of the sun. But oddly, there were specific moments that stayed with him; sounds and images that he should have forgotten, being so unimportant considering the weight of his dilemma: The bright golden eyes of a tree creature that had stared down as he passed beneath its leafy abode; the melodious song of a bird that had caught his attention, but that he had never been able to find. The hint of an unknown history he'd seen in the broken remains of an old road he followed through the forest until their courses diverged.

And the suspicious smirk on the face of the young clerk at the supermarket where he had used Martin's money to buy food. He'd probably never forget that look.

"Excuse me," he'd said, standing close to the counter to obscure his dirty clothing from her sight. "What's good food for a boy?" he'd asked.

"What?" she'd said from behind the fortress walls of her register.

He'd quickly realized how absurd his question had sounded. "Ummm.. I don't… I don't usually shop, sooo…"

She'd paused a moment, regarding him with skeptical eyes. She must have noticed the disheveled hair, his dirty face and clothes. She must have known he was "vaggin'", as his young tormentors had put it the day before.

And what was that look in her eyes? Pity? Disgust? Would she shoo him off? Perhaps call the police?

After a moment she'd simply shrugged, and gestured to an aisle. "Cereal, chips, milk, orange juice… candy… whatever. As long as you can pay for it," she'd said before turning back to whatever she'd been up to when he arrived.

But though the clerks recommendations had excited his taste buds, and given him a surge of energy for a while, in the end they'd just left him feeling a weak and tired. Especially the candy. Teddy had made a fuss about David's purchases and offered its own, more logical, suggestions. But too late. However inadequate, David would have to make this food last as long as possible. He couldn't risk going among the Orga too often, even though he was now one of them.

This world spares one little time for tears. David had come to know this as his exile passed from one day to another and then another. He had seen how the creatures of the forest fed on each other, how the small and weak were devoured or left to die when they could not fend for themselves. He had watched in fascination when a large bird swooped down on one of the scampering creatures, wrapped it in large talons and took flight. The small thing had squeaked and fought to no avail. David had watched it disappear into the trees, trapped in the birds merciless grasp, knowing it too must survive.

From death, life.

Brutal, this world. Brutal and cold and ignorant of the suffering of its creatures.

And was he not now one of them? Was he not now among the hierarchy of the food chain that nourished themselves on the flesh of the weak?

Is this really what he had wanted?

No. It had been Mommy. She had been the reason for this life. And he would make his way to her. Somehow. No matter what.

He broke from his dark thoughts with a new determination, and rose to his feet. The hint of dawn had not yet graced the horizon.

"Which way is west, Teddy?"

2

Another day passed, as did he, westward through the woodlands that hugged the Orga freeways; the lush forests haunted with dilapidated ruins of forgotten townships. Another night fell, as did he, onto the mossy earth and into the waiting arms of sleep, to traverse the realm of dreams while Teddy stood in watch for strangers or predators, or amphibicopter's hovering through the sky, in search of a strange young fugitive.

The next morning greeted David with a sharp pain in his ear and the realization that he really, really needed a bath. He worked his way slowly though what was left of his last bag of potato chips, chewing gently to not agitate the new irritation in his ear.

"You need to see a doctor, David," Teddy suggested when he noticed David moaning and cupping his head.

"Good idea, Teddy!" David snapped. "Why don't we just go back to the hospital? There's plenty of doctors there!" But the outburst made his ear hurt and there was now an audible pitch, like a far off whistle, in his head. Teddy was right. He needed help. But how?

"I'm sorry, Teddy, I…" but he couldn't finish the thought. He really didn't understand his anger. He rose and tossed the empty bag of chips into the trees, cursing his pain and the fragility of this flesh body. If he had only known; if the Blue Fairy could have somehow warned him about….

A movement of caught David's attention. He turned to see a boy, crouching near the base of a tree. He looked younger than David, thin and grim faced, the tattered remnants of some kind of uniform hugging his lean body. There was another movement and David saw another boy, this one taller and with white blond hair and a hint menace behind his bright blue eyes. Then came another… and another. Tall boys. Short boys. Fat and thin. They were of different ages and hues, but all sharing the same determined look… one that did not impart any warm reception.

David wanted to say something, to introduce himself and explain his presence, but his mouth would not form the words. It was no longer anger that filled him, but fear. He was trapped, surrounded by a ragged band of vagabond boys. They approached him slowly. He tried to back away but there was no escape.

"I'm sorry" he finally managed to say. "I mean, if this is your woods, that is. I was just sleeping. I didn't mean to…"

But the boys suddenly pounced on David and he found himself tossed to the ground. He felt a pinch on his cheek and screamed out. "He's skin" someone yelled. Then he felt his clothing being searched. He kicked and screamed at the assault, but his ear began to ache so he relented and surrendered to their inspections. The attack was over as quickly as it had began. David sat up, cupping his ear, to see that the boy's were still encircling him, but now with hands on hips or crossed over their chest, looking on him with some strange sort of disappointment.

"He's skin, Sy, but he ain't got much," one of them said. "Couple newbucks and a Supertoy. It's kinda old, but we could get something for it." It was the young one who had spoken, the thin, grim-faced boy who he'd seen first. David looked up at him and saw that the boy was addressing someone out of his line of sight.

"Good work, Wizzy," said a thick voice. David turned to see who had spoken. His fear was quickly renewed.

The man was standing in the shadows of hanging braches. His flesh was deep brown and his shoulders huge. His thick clothing was ragged and torn. His large head was bald and so smooth that it seemed to reflect back the scant light of the forest. He regarded David coolly through hooded eyes.

David felt a gasp escape his throat. He had no idea what this stranger wanted, but was fully aware that he was too small and weak to resist whatever it might be. The vision of the little scampering thing, captured and dying in the grasp of the hungry bird's talons, came back to him.

Was he prey now, too? Softly, he began to whimper.

"What's this now?" the man asked, disbelief in his deep voice. His eyes tightened on David. "Where you from, boy?"

David opened his mouth to respond, but the pain in his ear flared and he paused. "I am just trying to get home, mister," he finally managed to say. "I really need that money. And Teddy… I mean the toy. Please," he said with a catch in his voice, hoping that this might incite some sympathy. But the man just raised his brows in amusement, and the boys began to chuckle and then laugh outright.

"Well ain't you just pathetic as all get out," the man named Sy said. More laughter. "But I asked where you was from, boy, not where you goin'," he said after the humor had died down.

David pointed weakly over his shoulder. "I was in a hospital back that way," he muttered. To his surprise this announcement was greeted with knowing grunts of what seemed like understanding, if not sympathy.

"Yeah, yeah." Sy said, nodding his large shining head, as if this story was all too familiar. "But what I really want to know is, is anyone lookin' for you."

David didn't know how to respond. Would it be good or bad if they thought someone was looking for him? In the end he settled for a compromise.

"I'm not sure anymore. I mean, they were but… I think they gave up… maybe."

The ambiguity of this response caused some more dark glances to be exchanged between his captors.

"Did anyone follow you?" the man asked pointedly.

"No," David replied quickly, hoping it was the right thing to say, and that the certainty of his reply would have a different effect.

The man chewed on this idea for a silent moment. The boys watched him for some kind of signal. Then he took a deep breath and shot a quick glance at them. One by one they began to disappear quietly into the woods.

"Wait!", David cried, "I need that money! I need Teddy! You don't understand!"

But his cries were ignored and the boys vanished into the brush, taking Teddy and what was left of his money. Only the man named Sy remained, shaking his head, as if in pity.

"Got no time for tears, boy… and no time for dallying. Not in this world. You take what you need or it'll slip on by without you. Ain't you old enough to know that by now?"

David had no response. His anger and fear had blended to form an empty pit in his stomach. He cupped his painful ear, and placed his head in his hands so the man would not see his tears. He heard the man sigh and say something that he didn't make out. Then he heard the rustle of the bushes as the man turned and began to walk away. But the sounds suddenly stopped and, after a moment, David glanced up to see Sy looking expectantly over his shoulder. And there was something else in his face… something amused and impatient at the same time.

"Well, didn't you hear me, boy?" the man said, brows twisted in mock indignation. "You hungry, ain't ya? Want to get that pain out your head? Wash some of that stink off you?"

David stammered and then nodded.

"Then what you dallyin' for? Get that butt in gear and c'mon!"

David didn't pause to consider. He jumped up quickly, pressed a hand against his swelling ear, and followed the man, hoping it was the right course of action, but knowing he really had no choice.

There was no time for dallying.

_(cont...)_


	11. Chapter 11

_Note: I am certain that, among those still following this slow moving story, there are many who might be wondering when I will start moving David back home, especially since he has already encountered Martin. I might have written that encounter prematurely but I can work my way around that. The problem is I find myself in the same position that Ian and Stanley did during the construction of AI: David was too vulnerable to make it through the obstacles alone and they didn't t want to keep introducing and abandoning characters. So they put Joe in the story to act as both a guide and an obstacle, and to eventually be discarded. I have already discarded Angelo so I decided to establish some characters that can provide both obstacle and assistance to David's quest... if only inadvertently, while having their own story. There is logic, however haphazard, to these diversions. I hope you are enjoying the ride anyway. I assure you the next chapter will start leading back to more familiar ground - BH_

**Alive **

**A fan fiction in progress **

**by Bryan Harrison **

**Pt. 11**

1

David did his best to keep up with the man named Sy. who move almost effortlessly, through the thick woodland. But his feet beat painfully on the mossy earth and there were new scratches stinging his flesh where thickets and low hanging branches had appeared suddenly in his path to take their passing toll. David had caught Sy looking over his shoulder a few times, but had seen no reprieve in the man's face; only impatience and a hint of … humor?

David had learned something about humor in his short time among the Orga, but he could see nothing funny about this situation, or indeed any situation that had befallen him since he had come to reside in this fragile shell of flesh. He steeled himself against the pain and struggled on, lest what little he had in the world was lost to the bandits.

He had no idea how much time had passed or had far they had run, but he knew he could go no further. His brow was dripping with sweat and his breath coming deep and painfully fast. He was about to give up the chase, to admit defeat and let fate have her way with him, when he saw that the gang of boys had stopped far ahead, in a clearing near the base of a tree covered hill. Sy stopped running and walked calmly to his gang. They welcomed him with upraised hands. The big man slapped each palm and then turned to regard David as he came stumbling into the clearing, out of breath and miserable.

"Look like someone needs a trip through the gauntlet, eh?" Sy quipped. The boys laughed. All except the one Sy had called Wizzy, who only twisted his young face in unbridled disgust. But none of this mattered to David. Sy's apparent insult would have made no sense to him even if he'd had enough mental energy to decipher it. As it was, he only had enough to fall to his knees and hold up his arms in surrender.

"I…can't… go," 'any further' is how David had meant to conclude this breathy appeal. But he could not finish the sentence, so he decided to finish his descent instead, and lay in the deep grass of this place. It was fresh and cool against his face and he felt like he might have just lain there forever if strong hands had not yanked him up.

"Almost home, boy," Sy said chuckling and picking David up like a doll, to set him on his feet. David wobbled a bit, but somehow managed to stay upright. Wizzy snorted again, but David would not be provoked into looking, which he was somehow sure was Wizzy's intention.

The group set out again, walking this time, and at a merciful pace. David was both encourage and mystified that the bandits would show him any decency. But he soon realized that their slowness was not from any sense of courtesy, but of caution. They were passing up a gradual incline, beneath a dark shroud of overhanging trees, and they seemed to be cautious where they stepped, as if there might be small flesh-hungry creatures lurking in the bush. Sy glanced back and then whispered something to Wizzy. The boy made another disgusted snort before dropping back and moving to David's side. "Stay by me, pork chop." The boy said. David was too tired to ask the meaning of this new insult.

As the shadows grew deeper, David noticed that the group began moving into single file. He was about to inquire the reason for this when he felt a shove from the side. It was Wizzy. Again.

"Get in line, pork chop," the brat whispered. "And keep your tongue," he added, before David could respond. Not that David had the strength to trade insults, or even the experience to know to what words the boy might take offense. But he was determined to get even … eventually.

The line began to slow and finally came to a halt. Ahead David saw Sy step to the base of a large tree. Then the man knocked on the tree. Then he began talking to it.

Oh, David thought, he's insane. Now it all makes sense. The thought stuck a funny note in David's head and he was surprised to hear a chuckle come from his own mouth. He was not as surprised to feel Wizzy's foot bounce against his backside.

David turned on the boy. "Stop that!" he hissed.

"Quiet, pork chop," Wizzy snarled back with a look that meant business.

David returned the glare for a moment, but then relented. Later, he thought. Later. He was getting more comfortable with the idea of revenge and wondered when it would morph into more than just fantasy. But his anger with Wizzy fell away when he realized that Sy was not engaged in a lunatic monologue. Tree was talking back. He strained an ear and heard Sy say "C'mon, now. Before the skeeters wake up and eat us alive."

The tree responded. "Why the back trail, Sy?" it said in a lite, electronic drawl. "You in trouble or sumthin'?"

"We got us a guest," the man explained. The talking tree let out a burst of static and then some words that David could not make out. The boys in line all turned to regard him with cool skepticism. Sy rolled his eyes and then gestured for David to come forward.

"Hurry up!" Wizzy said and gave him a parting kick. David decided not to honor the rudeness with a response. The boys parted to allow him passage. He stepped by young bandits, wondering which of them had Teddy. He walked to Sy's side, but the man pushed him to the front of the tree.

"There. See? Just a kid," Sy said, impatiently. David looked up and down the crusty bark of the tree, but saw nothing like eyes or a mouth. But he guessed it was able to see him somehow. And it definitely spoke.

"And how do you know he ain't a plant?" the tree responded. It was apparently a girl. David didn't know trees were could be delineated in that fashion.

Sy flailed his fist in the air. "Dammit He's just some lost brat. Drop the gates!"

But the tree wasn't yet convinced about whatever it was Sy was trying to convince it. "What's that on your wrist boy?" it asked. David held up his arm to show the ID bracelet. "I got it from the hospital." he explained, almost truthfully.

"How in the hell did you miss that, Sy?" the tree yelled.

Sy grumbled, grabbed David's arm and ripped the wristband off with one strong yank. Then he tossed it far up the trail ahead. A sudden flash filled the darkness for a split second. Well, there goes my identity, thought David.

"Are you happy now?" Sy said.

"How do you know it wasn't traced?" the tree scolded.

"Because we made it this far!" Sy replied.

"Well that's specious reasoning," the tree said.

Sy punched the stubborn plant. "Dammit, Nance! He's skin. He's safe. We're tired and hungry. Now let us in!"

Some of the boy's seconded this. But the tree seemed reluctant to accept unannounced guests. It let out a rash of words that David didn't know, but were obviously intended to impart the severest disapproval.

Sy had his own string of angry words. He let them fly and then said, "OK, just leave the gates up, Nance, and try to find yourself another crew! We're comin in!" With that he started storming up the thin trail. The boys hesitated, undecided whether to follow Sy or heed the trees warning. But slowly they began to step up behind their leader. David stood his ground in confusion. He thought he heard the tree make a sigh of resignation… or it might have been anger.

Wizzy walked by and tapped David on the arm. Amazingly the boy had no kicks or insults to offer. He only shook his head and gestured for David to follow. "Man-oh-man," Wizzy sighed as they walked. "Sparks are gonna fly tonight." David was curious enough to inquire, but angry enough to get the explanation later… and from someone else.

As he stepped into line behind Wizzy, he thought he saw rows of thin red beams of light in the shadows ahead of the group. But they vanished as Sy trudged confidently into the foliage and beyond the place where the strange lights had once formed a barrier.

2

The thick greenery finally gave way to another clearing, but this one was cloaked from the sky by a thick canopy of intertwining tree branches. On the other side of the bare earthen floor sat a dilapidated building that looked as if it might have once been filled with people wearing dark suits and grim expressions; carrying thin briefcases as they rushed about busy corridors, chatting into their headsets. Now it was just two stories of broken glass and rusted frames; home to a roving band of underage bandits and their leader. Who knew what kind of chaos lay within?

As they approached the withered structure, a woman appeared in the doorway. She was older, perhaps the age of Dr Chen, and had a shock of thick red curls atop her head, and a face full of piercing and elaborate tattoos inked into her pale flesh. She leaned against the doorframe and placed a hand on her hip as she regarded the approaching boys with a baleful glare.

"I should'a just left the gate up and fried your sorry asses," she said. But nobody seemed impressed by this sentiment.

"Hello Nance," Sy replied dryly. "It's so nice to hear your sweet voice again, my precious jewel. Why don't you see to our guest?" He gestured to David and then slipped nonchalantly by the woman and into the unlit corridor. She gritted her teeth but didn't try to stop him. The others filed slowly behind, one by one, offering the woman conciliatory smiles as they passed. Wizzy chuckled under his breath and gave David a departing punch on the shoulder before joining the others.

The woman twisted a brow at David, as if she was wondering how he could still be alive. "You look even worse up close," she said, and analyzed him for a moment. Then something in her gaze softened. "That cheek is puffed up like a melon. Bet that tooth is killin ya, huh?"

David nodded his head quickly.

Nance sighed like a mother whose work is never done. "C'mon," she said and stepped into the building.

3

David was lead down a dark hallway, following the sound of Nance's footfalls ahead of him. He could hear the gang of boys laughing somewhere in the building. He started to head in that direction, but heard Nance say "this way," and turned to follow the sound of her voice. He heard the swishing of a door opening ahead, and saw sudden light erupt from a room. Nance was silhouetted against the glow for a moment before she stepped inside. David stepped in after her and saw something he hadn't quite expected: an immaculate room of sterile white walls and polished steel surfaces. Medical instruments, of the kind he had seen in the hospital, were neatly arranged on shining metal shelves or resting in bottles of colorful cleaning solutions. Complicated machinery hummed about the place. Digital displays shown rows of zeros from a myriad of multi-colored readouts.

David's surprise must have reached his face, for Nance laughed at whatever expression she saw there. She gestured to a thick chair in the center of the room. David crawled into the chair. It was huge and soft as a worn pillow. The thing whirred to life suddenly and embraced him, locking his arms in place. He started to struggle but knew it was futile. It was too late to change his mind now.

Nance winked and held up a small metal cylinder. The harmless looking device emitted a fierce red light from the upraised end, and David could swear it was making a high-pitched whine as she approached.

"Big boys don't cry," she said as she went to work.

4

The extraction was quick and David didn't suffer any more pain than he had at the hands of the men in the hospital; the silent ones in white lab coats who had come to pinch and prod and ask the same questions over and over again. When Nance was done she packed some gauze into the back of his mouth and told him to keep it there for the night.

She handed him something small and white. David studied it carefully. 'This is part of me,' he realized, reminded once again about the fragility of this body. He rolled his tongue over the cauterized wound in the back of his mouth, and wondered if it had really been necessary to cut the tooth out.

Nance seemed to notice his dark introspections. "It'll be all good in the morning, honey," she said, and turned back to whatever she'd been doing.

'Honey?' David repeated, pensively.

Nance turned to shoot David another one of her sour looks. He was starting to understand that this was probably her usual expression and that maybe she wasn't as mean as the piercings and the angry tattoos implied.

"Yeah, 'honey'," she said, flipping off the lights and ushering David back into the dark hallway. "Nobody ever call you that before?"

"Well, yes," David explained. "I mean, no, but I understand. It's just that… well I didn't expect … You don't seem as mean as the others."

Nance let out a laugh that echoed through the empty halls. "You think they're mean?"

"They jumped on me and stole my money and my bear," he explained, angrily. "That is definitely mean, and I think…" he paused a moment, trying to recall the legal restrictions on human interactions. "I am pretty certain that it's illegal."

He couldn't see Nance's face as they made their way through the dark, but the tone of her voice implied a shrug. "Yeah, well, you're still alive, ain't ya?" she said.

David considered the logic of this response. It was setting the bar rather low, but he had to concede that he was, in fact, quite alive. "I guess you're right, he said, reluctantly. "But I almost died trying to keep up with Sy … and that kid named Wizzy kept kicking me and … " something told David that complaining about name calling wouldn't come off too well. "…and stuff." he said instead.

Nance laughed. "Yea, the Wiz Kid can be a pain in the butt sometimes. But that's only because Sy's always protecting the brat. He thinks Wizzy's some kind of genius. Personally… and don't tell him I said this, but I just don't see it."

David made a sound of agreement and then felt Nance grab his shoulder and turn him down another dark corridor. He heard the boy's voices raised somewhere above. Nance grumbled under her breath. David pondered the irritated sound and wondered why she put up with them if she didn't want them around.

"The secret is to not let Wizzy know that it bothers you," Nance continued. "You just act like you could care less and then she'll stop."

"She?" David blurted.

Nance didn't respond, but David heard her sigh, as if she was wondering if he'd been living under a rock. "Where in the hell are you from, boy" she asked.

David thought for a moment. "I don't remember," he finally replied. The response didn't seem to surprise her.

5

She led David to an elevator and, still in complete darkness, they rode to the upper floor. When the doors parted, and the light flooded in, David was, once again, left speechless. The walls that once separated offices had been knocked down and the bandit's living space spanned the entire length of the buildings upper floor. It was decorated with fine accouterments, as the palaces of pirates are so prone; plush couches and chairs of ornate design, things that must have been stolen from the wealthiest homes. Paintings and statues and holographic works of art hung from walls or sprouted from tables with intricate designs carved into their antique wood. All around lay piles of bounty from the gang's exploits. There were games and clothing and musical instruments strewn about the place as if the boys had grown tired and simply tossed them aside. Computers and unmoving Mecha filled a far off corner. David couldn't see Teddy among the discards, but he couldn't see as well as he used to. He wondered what had happened to his toy friend, but decided it would be better to not press the issue. For now.

In the center of the room sat a large cubical embracing a complex console. And from this sprouted numerous screens displaying various views of the surrounding woods. In one of the monitors, David saw the trail they had walked to get here, and realized he was looking through the eyes of the tree. "Oh," he said and was glad no one had heard him, lest he have to explain why he'd been surprised by something so obvious.

The gang of boys were in various places around the room, their feet propped up on expensive looking footstools, talking, playing games, sleeping or raiding a large refrigerator near the back of the huge place. Then he saw noticed a strange looking older fellow. He was thin and proper, clothed in a ragged black suit. His face held an expression of intense disinterest with anything that might occurring around him. But the boys seemed to be ordering him about. "Neville, Bring me that drink!" and "Neville, did you finish washing my stuff?" and "Neville, make me a sandwich!".

David understood immediately. He looked away. It was no longer his concern. He had a new life now. He followed Nance to the place where Sy was resting.

"Found yourself a real kitten didn't ya?" she said, throwing herself down on a tapestry-laden couch near Sy. The man had kicked back into a large, throne-like chair, and was fiddling with something in his hand. He laughed without looking up from whatever he was doing. "Told ya he was a pork chop," he said.

"Why do you keep calling me that," David asked.

A voice rose from the space behind Sy's chair "There's two types of people in the world," it said, "those that eat and those that get eaten," David was already too familiar with that voice and braced himself for the insults he was sure were coming. Wizzy popped her head up from behind the couch and shot him a mocking look. "We call 'em woofs and pork chops. And, you sure ain't no woof."

Sy chuckled.

Nance shot David a knowing eye.

David was searching his mind for words that might sting his young abuser. But then he remembered the woman's words. "So, can I have something to eat now?" he asked instead, ignoring Wizzy's taunt.

Sy gestured over his shoulder. "Help yourself. The fridge is over there," he said, still engrossed in whatever toy he held in hand.

"Thank you," David said politely. He smiled broadly at Wizzy as he passed, just to show he was above it all, and felt some comfort in the grimace that crossed her deceptively boyish features.

6

Precisely when he became one of them was not clear. But it seemed that the lost boys of the forest had just accepted his presence and, by the time they were settling in for the night, were acting as if he had always been among them.

Pork Chop became David's unofficial handle, and he was informed that should he protest this name, they would call him something worse. Wizzy had laughed and suggested Doggurts, or Bushpatty. But an older boy named Darek, one of the boys who had helped hold David down while the others searched his pockets, explained that these were slang for animal droppings. David settled for Pork Chop.

The Wiz Kid, as David learned was Wizzy's official title, tried to goad him into a few arguments as he ate. But just like Nance said, she gave up when David shrugged the insults off. He chewed his meal of wild rice and stringy beef carefully, to not agitate the cauterized hole in the back of his jaw. The pain was slowly coming back as the anesthesia wore off. But it was just a dull ache.

When he was finished, Neville came to him with a towel and fresh clothing. David searched the Mecha's eye, as if he might see some recognition there. But the service bot only gave him a disinterested glance, and then pointed in the direction of a stairway alongside the room. "The shower is there, sir. You are allotted 10 minutes," it said and walked away.

"Where's he from?" David asked.

"Found him," Wizzy said, but would not elaborate. Instead she suggested that David shower quicky, before his stench made her puke. He smiled and walked away.

7

The water felt so good on his bruised and scratched flesh that David got lost in his thoughts and spent more than his allotted time in the shower. Angry cries and threats interrupted his introspection. But David was starting to understand that this was just their way of communicating. He shut off the water and put on the clothing that Nance had given him.

When David gazed into the mirror he wasn't sure if he even knew the person looking back. The new clothing was dark and stylish. It looked expensive and felt smooth against his skin. It fit in all the right places, but billowed loosely over his thin frame. He guessed that it was supposed to fit this way. He'd seen the other boys wearing similar things.

The once smooth skin of his face and arms was now dotted by small scars and insect bites. And being living flesh, it had tanned from exposure to the sun. He looked… older somehow. But the real difference was in his eyes. There was something new there. David didn't really feel any different. Tired, yes, and nervous about his future. But the face in the mirror held something new…. and dark. Yes, it was the eyes, he decided. They were changing in some vital way. Something was happening beneath his awareness, like the time he had caught his hands wringing unconscious knots in the hospital bed sheets. But this change was happening in his mind… and his heart.

Someone pounded on the door. "Get your skinny ass outta there!" It was the voice of an older boy.

David responded quickly. "OK! OK! Just wait your damned turn!" he yelled. But he felt an immediate sense of dread. Had he been presumptuous? Had he gone too far? But his fear fell away when he heard the boy outside laughing. "Oh, Pork Chop," the voice said, almost whimsically. "You a trip."

"Yeah," David replied to himself, looking again at the dark clad stranger in the mirror, wondering what would become of him. "I guess I am."

8

As David was drifting off to sleep on the cot that Neville had placed out for him, he heard someone approaching. He rolled over to see Sy's large frame silhouetted against the soft glow from the security monitors, which was the only light in the room now. The man leaned close and spoke in a whisper.

"You're one of us now, Pork Chop. Tomorrow you start earning your keep," he said.

David waited for further explanation. But none seemed to be coming. "How?" he asked.

Sy made that low ambiguous chuckle. "Well, boy. We're bandits. You smart enough to figure it out." With that the man walked away, leaving David alone with his questions and uncertainty.

A troubling thought came then, as he considered his new predicament. He knew he would eventually find his way home… by his mother's side where he belonged. For now he would play along with the gang, just until he found Teddy and a means of escape. Then he would continue his quest. He would let nothing stop him. Nothing.

But… and this was the new thought fretting in the back of his mind… by he time he found her; by the time he had lied and stole and kicked his way through all the ceaseless obstacles that fell in his path… would he become someone else? Would Mommy even know him?

And would he still be someone she could love?

(cont...)


	12. Chapter 12

_This episode was supposed to be one chapter, but it wound up so long I had to split it in two. I think I got a little carried away with the description of the "Little Cuz" scam, but I was having so much fun with it, it seemed a shame to edit it down. And if my depiction of future street hustlers and hacker scams seems a bit naive... I can only respond by taking pride in my ignorance of such activities. ;-) Bry_

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress**

**by Bryan Harrison**

**Pt. 12**

**1**

An opening suddenly appeared at the end of a long dark hallway. David rose on his elbow, cupping his eyes against the bright beam of light emanating from beyond the door.

Voices. He heard voices. There was some type of meeting going on. What could they be discussing so late in the night?

He stood and moved quietly over the cold floor, careful not to wake any of the sleeping gang. But as he made his way through the dark he suddenly realized that they were not here. He surveyed the empty room. He was alone. Where had they all gone?

"_Should we show him everything?"_

The voice from beyond the door caught David's attention. Where had he heard that voice? Were they talking about him? He tip-toed down the hall.

"_He's not ready," _said someone.

"_No one is ever really ready," _said another.

"_This is different. He is different," _said a gentle, wise voice_._

David knew these voices. He pressed against the wall, positioning himself so that he could see into the room. The décor seemed so familiar. The furniture was green… and the floor, a dark polished wood. His heart jumped. How could this be?

"_You can't have it both ways,"_ said another voice, deep and mocking. _"He can't be special and ordinary at the same time. It's one or the other."_

"_Paradox_," said the wise one_ "It's because he is the first."_

"_First, ha!" _said a spiteful voice._ "He's a damned parasite on the body of humanity! A scourge_!" But this voice was impossible! He'd seen the man die, flailing in the grip of a raging flame that grew beyond control and engulfed the forest.

David pushed through the door and stood immobilized by what he saw. A flood of conflicting emotions rose from his chest and brought tears to his face. He was home; the place where he had first learned the sacred meaning of love and hate; trust and betrayal.

Seated on a couch in the center of the room, the same couch from where he had once watched his family go about their incomprehensible Orga lives, was the strange council that had been discussing his fate. They all turned to gaze on him with mixed expressions. He knew their faces.

Alan Hobby was there. His creator…. or the creator of the boy he had once been. The man's smile was radiant; and duplicitous. Henry was there too, seated on the couch, scowling over his shoulder at David. At his feet sat Martin; the old Martin, small and frail, his legs still bound in an electronic cast. He grimaced at David with tight, scheming eyes. Lord Johnson Johnson, was seated at the far end of the room. The man sneered and looked away, as if the sight of David was too much to bear.

"_Hello David,"_ his creator said in a soft voice. _"We've been waiting for you."_

"How did you all get here?" David asked. The people in the room cast puzzled glances at each other.

"_Oh, we're not really here, David,"_ Hobby chuckled.

"_Idiot!"_ Lord Johnson Johnson laughed. _"How in the hell could I be here. Ya simple headed sim! Ya got me killed, remember?"_

"I… I don't understand," David stuttered. "Is this my home?"

"_This is my home! And only mine!"_ Martin yelled. Henry shushed the boy and turned his back on David. _"Don't bother yourself about him anymore,"_ Henry said softly, hugging his son, who was weeping now.

"_Ah yes. Home. Where the heart lies,"_ said a cheerful voice. David turned to see a familiar shape sitting crossed legged in a corner.

"Joe!' he said.

Gigolo Joe jumped up and tapped out a quick rhythm with his feet_. "And what lies the heart tells, David," _he warned_. "Orga lies. The worst kind. Never trust it_." Joe morphed suddenly into Angelo._ "Never trust an Orga heart,"_ Angelo said.

David realized what was happening. He tried to clear his head. "This is not real," he whispered to himself. "It's … a dream."

There was a low mocking laugh behind David. He turned quickly to see a large man leaning against the wall. It was Sy. He had an amused yet somehow sad expression on his face.

"_What's real, Pork Chop?"_ he said. _"Hmm? You wake up. You eat. You poop. You fight like a dog just so you can do it all over again the next day. And in the end, no one gets out alive. Is that what you wanted?"_

"You're not real," David said "And I'm not afraid of you."

Wizzy suddenly materialized beside Sy and fixed David with a long, knowing look.

"_Then what are you afraid of?"_ she asked. Sy raised his brows and laughed. The others joined in. Except Wizzy who only continued to stare at him, and Angelo who was nothing but a silent doll now.

"_You are afraid of being alone." _

The ethereal voice filled the room. The dream characters stopped laughing and turned their attention to an amorphous shape slowly making it's way down the spiraling stairway.

"_But you are alone, David. Because you're special. Because you are one of a kind."_

"Mommy?" David whispered. His emotions welled inside. A longing deep and painful gripped his heart.

"_Poor kid,"_ Sy chuckled. _"Well, it's time to get going anyway. C'mon, Pork Chop"_

"Mommy, I'm home!" David called out. Her back was to him as she rounded the staircase, and he could see something enveloping her; like a shifting halo … or the vague outline of wings wafting on invisible currents.

David started to run to her, but Sy grabbed his arm. _"No time for dallying, boy! Let's get a move on!"_

David pulled away, but the man's grip was like iron. "Let go!" he yelled as the mystery woman set her foot on the floor and slowly turned to face the room. He had to see her! Had to hold her! He grabbed Sy's massive hand and tore his fingernails into the flesh.

"_OW!" _Sy screamed and pulled away_. "Get your scrawny ass up, NOW!"_

David felt his arm yanked fiercely; felt his body lifted and dropped painfully on a hard cold surface. He moaned and opened his eyes. He was on the floor. The faint rays of daylight fell around him. He looked up to see the gang standing around him; hair mussed and eyes still red from sleep, laughing and pointing at where he lay. Wizzy was among them, wrapped in a towel, hair still wet from a morning wash. She rolled her eyes in disgust and walked away.

Sy loomed over him, an enraged giant, illuminated by the rays of dawn breaking through the open windows. The man was sucking on the back of his hand. "On your feet, Pork Chop!" Sy grumbled. David stood quickly, trying to clear the sleep from his mind.

Sy turned to the circle of boys. "And what are you slackers laughing at?" he yelled. "You want a little taste too? I got enough for every body!" The boys ran back to their cots and started getting ready for the day. Sy turned back to David.

"Nice one," he said, examining the scratches on the back of his hand. He thrust a finger in David's face. "You get a newbies pass this time, Pork Chop. Next time you bleed me, accident or not, I'll kick your little butt all over the room."

"I was dreaming," David said, angrily, remembering the sight of Her standing in the shadows of the place he once called home. He had only wanted to see her… to touch her. "I was home! Home! And that's where I am going. You have no right to-"

The slap was so quick that David wasn't sure it had happened. Then the pain came. It flooded his face and stung hotly in his cheek and jaw.

"His tooth, damn it, Sy!" Nance yelled as she stormed across the room. The rest of the gang picked up their pace, suddenly concerned about Sy's mood. Nance started to force herself between them, but one look from Sy made her stop. Whatever she saw in his eyes made her take a step back. "Don't mess up my dental work," she commanded, but there was no force in her voice.

Sy stared blankly at her for a moment, then turned back to David. "I'm not one to talk back to, Pork Chop. Not on a workday. And this is your home, until I say otherwise. Now get cleaned up and outside for roll call. We got business to attend to."

David stood his ground, glaring at the man. An indescribable anger burned as hot as the pain in his face.

"Well, aren't you pretty when you're pissed." Sy smiled. "Remember where you found that feeling, boy. It'll serve you well someday, I assure you. And when it does, you'll thank me for helping you find it. Now get ready before I turn to the other cheek."

**2**

The gang of young thieves were gathered in the courtyard, lolling about in the shadows of the thick trees that engulfed the hideout and protected it from aerial scrutiny. The boys had all dressed simply, like school kids going on a field trip.

David stood at the edge of the crowd, feeling angry and humiliated. His tooth wasn't bothering him anymore, but his face was still stinging, and the thick bran he'd had for breakfast wasn't sitting too well in his gut. For some reason no one, not even Wizzy, had teased him over what Sy had done. It was somehow off limits, perhaps because anyone could get the same treatment at any time.

Sy hadn't seemed angry at all when he served breakfast. "This is on the house," he'd said, dropping a bowl of meal in front of David. "But you got to earn your supper."

"Yes sir," David had replied, weakly. He hadn't dared look the man in the eye, lest his true feelings shone though and initiate another slap. Sy had given him the usual amused look and then walked on, doling out the mornings rations. David had barely finished eating when they'd all been ordered to the courtyard.

Nance stepped out of the building, hands on hips and a scowl on her inked face. "Positions!" she yelled. Everyone stood and formed a single line, side by side. Nance nodded approvingly and then headed back inside.

Wizzy stepped out of the line and beckoned David to her side. She was dressed as a boy again, tidy plaid shirt and pressed blue jeans. She looked as if she might have been headed for 'the fishin hole', to anyone who didn't know better.

"Get your ass over here, Pork Chop!" she yelled. But David pretended not to hear.

Darek who was standing next to David, laughed and pushed him on the arm. "Look's like The Wiz Kid found a pet kitten," he said. The others joined in and started taunting them both. Wizzy snarled and flashed them the finger. David pretended to be above it all. Then Sy walked into the courtyard, dressed sharply in black on black and sunglasses to match. The gang began to whistle and hoot.

"All right, shut it up," Sy barked. "Tonight we're working a Flesh Fair in Allentown."

The gang all cheered. "The Rube Fair!" they called it. "The Sucker Convention!" said one boy. "Easy money!" said another. But a chill had formed in David's stomach. A Flesh Fair? What were they going to do there?

Sy slipped off his glasses and silenced the boys with a stern look. "You'll still get caught if you're not paying attention!" he warned. "You forget Rooster already?" Nobody said anything. A few of the boys looked nervously at their feet. "Yeah," Sy said. "He thought it was easy money too."

"Whose Rooster?" David whispered to Darek.

"Shhh," Darek hissed. "Later"

"We're doing teams again," Sy continued, putting his glasses back on. "Duos this time."

"The Little Cuz?" someone asked, disappointment obvious in his voice.

"Yup," Sy said. "It's back to basics for now."

The boys all moaned and complained. "That's so old skool!" Darek yelled. David really wanted to know what was going on.

"Shut it up!" Sy yelled. "You know the drill. Pair off according to height, weight, skin tone. Use your common sense. You get one minute before I start choosing partners."

There was a suddenly flurry of activity as the larger boys broke ranks and started choosing partners from the smaller ones. A fight broke out when two of the older boys chose the same "Little Cuz". Sy stepped in and slapped both the boys in the head. Then he made the decision for them.

"What do I do?" David asked no one in particular.

A large boy with heavily inked cheeks and savage piercing in his lips, stepped in front of David. He put his hands on his hips as he appraised the smaller boy. "I guess you'll have to do, Pork Chop." The boy said. "You know the routine?"

"No. He's with me," said a irritatingly familiar voice. David turned to see Wizzy nearby. Her arms were crossed, a looked of resigned disinterest on her face.

"No. I'm with him," David replied quickly, pointing at the older boy.

"No, you're with her," Sy grumbled as he approached. David shot the man a quick glance, then turned away. Wizzy stuck out her tongue at him.

"Allentown is a bit conservative, Animal" Sy said to the tattooed boy. "You got too much ink on you for this hustle. Why don't you cover security with Tank." Animal shrugged and walked away.

Sy set his gaze on David. David looked down at his feet so Sy wouldn't see him gritting his teeth. The man laughed. "Still pissed eh? Good. Use it," he said. "The Wiz Kid created this routine. So if anyone can teach you, it's her."

David glanced up at Wizzy. Her boyish features twisted as if to say 'what of it?'

Sy punched her gently on the shoulder. "Keep an eye on the newbie," he said. "And get him some better clothes. Something plain. We leave in an hour." Then he waked away

Wizzy looked at David's cheek. "You look good in pink, "she said. It was probably supposed to be a joke. But David didn't see anything funny about it. She sighed. "Well I don't like working with you any better than you like working with me. So let's get it over with."

David gave up. They were going to be stuck together anyway. He might as well make the best of it. He fixed her with a determined gaze. "No more kicking!" he said. "Next time, I kick back."

Wizzy looked surprised. There was the slightest hint of approval in her eyes. "We'll see," she said.

The two glared silently at each other for a moment while the boys around them started practicing for the night.

David finally broke the silence. "So, what the hell is The Little Cuz?" he asked.

**3**

It was a simple game, Wizzy explained as David slipped into some casual suburban attire Neville had found in a pile of stolen clothing. It was a variation of the old 'Tag And Bleed' hustle, or a TAB Scam as it was usually called.

Most people didn't like carrying Newbucks, especially in the kind of crowd Flesh Fairs usually attracted. So the entertainment venues that weren't prepay, especially the wild ones, generally used scanners for entry. The TAB scam consisted of getting a small scanner interceptor, or a 'snooper' on the clothing or body of the Mark. The old devices had been large and too easily detected by scanners. But the new snoopers were only about the size of the head of a pen, definitely small enough to go undetected without close scrutiny. And while they could only read to radius of 7 to 10 inches, this limitation also made them difficult to detect.

"Flesh Fairs are traveling shows," Wizzy explained, "and usually too cheap to provide parking security or set up cameras in the lot. So we'll be OK."

"We're not actually going into the Fair?" David asked as he buttoned his shirt.

"No," Wizzy said as if it should have been completely obvious. "We work the parking lot as people go in. We want to hit them before they use the scanner. That's where we get our read."

"Oh, I see," David said. He took some comfort in the thought.

Now, the snooper does most of the work," Wizzy continued. "but the real trick is getting close enough to the Mark to place it."

"OK. So, what's a 'Mark'?" David asked as he sat to slip on the old shoes Neville had brought him. They were dull and scuffed; the perfect disguise for this scam.

Wizzy looked exasperated. "The target! The sucker! Where are you from anyway?"

David briefly considered telling her, just to see the look on her face. But he quickly decided against it. He started tying his laces.

"Soooo," she continued, "there are a lot of different ways of doing it, but mine's the best. We usually use a tall boy chasing a small one. But you and I will have to improvise, I guess.

"First we find a good Mark, an older man is best. They usually have better credit, and there's another reason that I'll explain later. He's got to be wearing a jacket or a long sleeve shirt for it to work. And it's best that he be alone or with no more than one other person." She held up a finger for emphasis. "No more than one!"

Wizzy paused and waited for David to acknowledge this. He nodded and tried to tie his shoes again. She noticed his difficulty. "Umm, do you know what you're doing down there?" she asked.

"I'm fine!" David snapped.

Wizzy clucked her tongue. "Temperamental, aren't we?" she said. "So, the little guy starts running and the big guy starts chasin' him. It's important for them to pass the Mark one time so he can see what's going on. That way when the little guy grabs his arm he'll think it's because he's being chased. And that's how it works. Little Cuz, passes the Mark and circles him with Big Cuz hot on his butt. Then Little Cuz grabs the Mark's arm, all defensive like… like he's trying to hide from an ass whuppin. Get it?"

"Yeah. 'Ass whuppin'. I get it," David lied.

"Now a younger guy will probably say something like, 'get off me ya brat' before Little Cuz has a chance to place the snooper. But an older man… hey, have you ever tied your own shoes before?"

David shot her a fierce expression. She sighed and continued.

"But an older man will usually supply a little cover for the brat until he finds out what's going on. It's that protective fatherly stuff, ya know? And that's when you tag him. Then the big kid yells, 'Get out of the way, that's my little cousin!" or something stupid like that, and the Mark will usually step aside. Then Little Cuz runs away and Big Cuz chases him off, and they wait a few minutes for another Mark. See?"

David had finally managed to secure his laces. He sat up with an 'I told you so' look on his face. Wizzy was not impressed. David considered the plan for a moment. It was obviously illegal and that was probably the best that could be said about it. But he really had no choice. It made sense, as best he knew. He wasn't used to this type of thinking.

"Seems simple enough," he said finally. "So why does everyone seem to hate it?"

Wizzy took on a precocious, professorial look. David was surprised by the expression. "It's not a rich crowd. So we have to place a lot of bugs to make any money. And we have a tight window," she said. "Sy will be in the van, running each snooper as soon as it gets a read. He'll be using a lot of proxies and he won't be cleaning anyone out, but security systems are pretty smart now. They'll eventually notice even small amounts of money being shuffled back and forth. So we have to place as many snoopers as we can, as fast as possible, and then clear out." She paused and took on a grim look.

"And there is a possibility that security might get a heads up on us, if someone gets caught placing a snooper or something. So we have to keep our ears open. We can't carry any communication. If someone gets caught, they have too many ways of tracing them. But that's where Animal and Tank come in. If the crap hits the fan, they start a diversion… something really loud. And that'll be our signal to get to our check points before the troopers come."

"Is that what happened to Rooster?" David asked. "He missed the signal?"

Wizzy seemed taken aback by the question. She was quiet a moment and her face took on an uncharacteristic melancholy. "Nah," she said, shaking her head. "Rooster didn't get himself caught by troopers. Rooster got himself caught by a Mark. A really pissed off one too. The guy's doing 15 to life now…. the Mark I mean." She paused for emphasis. "Flesh Fair crowds can be dangerous. Get it?"

David didn't understand what '15 to life' meant. But he knew well about the Flesh Fair crowds. He returned her grave expression to let her know he was taking it all very seriously. Wizzy reached out and grabbed his arm. David didn't know how to react to the touch. So he didn't.

"But that won't happen to us, will it, Pork Chop?" she said. "Because we'll be paying attention. Right?"

"Right," David said.

Wizzy squeezed his shoulder hard. "If something goes down and we can't get to one of the vans in time, we head for the woods and make our way back on our own. We'll have to fend for ourselves. Rules of the game. No exceptions. Understand?"

David nodded.

"Any questions?"

David was perplexed and scared. But he didn't want her to see it. He pushed his chin up. "Yeah," he said. "Which one of us is playing Little Cuz?"

_(cont...)_


	13. Chapter 13

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress**

**by Bryan Harrison**

**Pt. 13**

**1**

The gang set out through the forest, on a different path than the one on which they had arrived. They made their way down the long brushy slope, pass the numerous booby traps, and into the woods that led to civilization… or what was left of it. Sy cut back and forth a few times so it would be difficult, if not impossible, for anyone who didn't know the route by heart, to retrace their steps. There was a time when David would have been able to memorize every change of direction. But his human brain had too many other things to be concerned with for that kind of precise recollection.

After 30 minutes or so, the group came to a tunnel shrouded in thick undergrowth. They passed into the gloomy place and, after a short time, came out near a roadway. There were no cars about, but Sy made them all wait in the shadows that covered the mouth of the tunnel as he walked out onto the clearing beside the road. Two vans quickly rolled into view, as if they had been waiting for his arrival. They parked off the road and Sy leaned into the one of the windows to speak with a large man in dark glasses.

Some of the boys moaned at the sight. "Rollers?" Darek said. "Are you kidding me? Where'd he find those oldies? The 21 Century?"

David twisted his face up in puzzlement.

Wizzy gave him a perplexed look. "They still ride on wheels. Rollers. Get it?" she explained.

"Oh," David said. 'Well, uh, yeah. I… I just never heard that term before."

"I'm sure," Wizzy said sarcastically. Then she turned to Darek. "Why don't you complain about it to Sy," she suggested with a dark smile. "I'm sure he'd love to hear your opinion." Darek decided not to comment any further on the issue.

Sy scanned the roadway once more, and then waved them all over. In moments they had packed into the vans and were on the road, headed southward.

The sun was mid sky by the time Allentown came into view: a crop of shining new structures set high on the hills, older buildings in various states of disrepair lay in the trees beneath. This had once been a place sustained by farms and livestock. Now it provided office space, computer hardware and cruiser parts, as well as young naive soldiers for ambitious foreign campaigns.

Sy had the drivers pull over in the old downtown area, and ushered the gang into one of the Fun Zones. The place was filled with shouting local kids, who paid no attention to the anonymous looking strangers that sauntered in.

"No hustling," Sy ordered. "Just have a little fun until sunset. Then we go to work. And stick by your partners!"

Wizzy and David caroused the place, not speaking to one another, watching other boys play the Holographic Single Shooters and Racers. "Not my thing," Wizzy said. David didn't have any opinion on the matter. A few service Mecha caught his attention and it occurred to him just where they were headed that night. A shiver ran up his spine. Why, after all this time, was he bothered by the idea? He wasn't one of them anymore. Why should he care?

He had a sudden urge to tell Wuzzy about his past; a strange notion that she might somehow understand. But he pushed the thought away. The two managed some strained small talk as the afternoon wore on. Then Sy poked his head in the door.

"We're on," Wizzy whispered.

The locals didn't really pay attention to the large group of strange kids that left all at once and climbed into two large vans.

**2**

The Flesh Fair was laid out in the pit of a wide basin that spanned the distance between a large body of water and an old unused freeway. It had once been extensive orchards, until Mills Pond had swollen to lake sized proportions. Now the area was serving as parking for the traveling circus of destruction.

Sy dropped the gang off in pairs at strategic locations, far enough apart that they wouldn't run into each other. The vans were going to be parked near the main exits. Everyone noted their pick up points, just in case something went wrong.

When he had placed Animal and Tank, Sy ordered the driver to stop at the northeastern coroner of the lot. He turned to Wizzy and David. He passed a hand full of small, dull grey pellets to Wizzy and then placed his hands on both their shoulders. "Taking no risks tonight. We're only here for an hour. Then we're out. So don't dally. Set your timer. Listen for a foghorn. That's the clear-out call. Now move it!"

"What's a foghorn?" David asked as they jumped out of the van.

Wizzy looked as if she was about to scream at his stupidity. "Just watch for my cue," she said.

The sun had already set, but the horizon was still burning a violent gold. The pair waited quietly for a few minutes, watching families and large groups of young people moving through the lot towards the Fair. Then Wizzy spotted a man parking an old roller nearby. "Perfect" she said. She extracted one of the tiny snoopers from her pocket and turned to David.

"Give me your best pissed off face." She ordered. David got into the mood, gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes on her. Wizzy sighed and kicked him hard on the shin.

"_OW!"_ David screamed.

"That's more like it!" she laughed. Then she tore off, running towards where the old guy was ambling away from his car. David let out after her, recalling the practice runs they had tried in the courtyard. But this was real. He could get caught! The thought brought a flood of excitement though into veins and he suddenly became his character.

"Get back here you little brat!" David yelled.

The old man noticed them approaching. Almost on queue he stopped to intervene. "Ok now, you two What's going on here?"

Wizzy ran by the old timer, panting and terrified. "He's hurtin me!" she screamed. David chased her around the Mark once and then slowed to let her grab the man by the arm.

"You kids need to stop that," The man said. "Where's your parents?"

"I'll gonna stomp her… uh, _his_ little butt!" David yelled. He lunged at Wizzy. The old man blocked his path.

"Stop that now! There ain't no reason for you youngsters to be fighting. Go on inside before you miss the show!"

Wizzy winked at David. She was finished.

"That's my cousin, mister, and he's in some serious trouble. So get out of my way!" David screamed.

The old man stepped back. "Ok, boy, Ok. But you need to settle down before someone gets hurt!"

Wizzy was already off. David let out after her, screaming and hollering about a pending 'ass whuppin,' and the two disappeared behind banks of parked cruisers. They found a place beside an old van and immediately fell into laughter.

"That's wasn't too bad at all, Pork Chop," Wizzy said, a look of approval in her eyes.

David's breath was racing. This was exhilarating. He had never experienced this type of excitement before. What they were doing was wrong, it was illegal, and he knew exactly what that meant. But somehow, that made it all the more thrilling.

"Let's do another one!" he said.

**3**

Forty minutes later, the parking lot crowd was thinning. David and Wizzy had worked their way close to the gates, pulling The Little Cuz at every opportunity. They'd had to reset their location once when they saw some of the gang playing the game close by. And they'd had a quick scare when one of their earlier Marks had come back to his car for something, and recognized them. "You two still at that?" the man said. He had pulled the two aside and innocently scolded them before heading back to his car. David had felt guilty. Wizzy thought it was hilarious. She grabbed David by the hand and led him to a dark area near the fence.

"I'm almost out of snoopers," she said. She checked her timer. "We still have about fifteen minutes. Let get rid of these and head to-"

A large explosion suddenly filled the air and the crowd inside began to roar. David flinched at the sound. It awoke something unexpected inside his mind.

"What's wrong with you?" Wizzy laughed. "Oh, let me guess, you never heard an bomb go off."

"No," David said, somberly. "I mean… yes. I've been to a Flesh Fair. It's just that…" He didn't know how to finish.

Wizzy gazed on him curiously for a moment. "What happened to you? Why were you in that hospital?" David could tell she wasn't mocking him now. He opened his mouth to reply, but knew that she would never believe. No one would.

An amplified voice rang out from inside the fair and echoed through the night.

"_Welcome my fellow Humans! Welcome to the Celebration of Life. The tribute to Orga kind and to every breathing thing that walks or flys or crawls or swims upon God's Earth!"_

The crowd roared. The stands began to shake with stomping feet.

"_Are you ready?"_ the announcer yelled. "_Are you ready to witness the purification of the world?_" Another explosion went off and David mind's was flooded with images he never wanted to see again. Shattered bodies and melting faces. He moaned and tried to force the memories away.

Wizzy looked concerned now. "What's your problem?"

The chanting had started inside. _"10… 9… 8…"_ It was the countdown to the first death of the night.

An unexpected emotion began building inside David's heart. "Can we go now?" he asked. He knew there was a whine in his voice, but he couldn't help it.

"No way! We have work to do," Wizzy said. She was no longer sympathetic.

"Please," David pleaded "I can't … I can't stand loud sounds," he lied.

"Can you stand Sy beating your butt tonight?"

"_5… 4…3…"_

David cupped his ears. But he could not hide from the force of the cannon. He felt the pressure of it on his flesh and saw the comedian's shattered face burning in his mind's eye. Someone grabbed his wrists and pryed them from his ears. David opened his eyes to see Wizzy's enraged eyes on him.

"Are you crying?" she screamed. "You'd better not be crying!"

David felt his face. There was wetness on his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Wizzy" he said. He felt pitiful and weak. But there was no way to explain his reaction.

"Shape up, Pork Chop!" she yelled over the din of the crowd. "We only have a ten minutes left. Now get moving!"

But another sound rose in the night. It was a low croaking moan that came from somewhere in the parking lot. Wizzy was instantly up and running. David started after her. "What?" he yelled.

"It's the foghorn!" she called over her shoulder. "Something went wrong. Keep up!"

**4**

They raced through the lot, passing a few stragglers that were still making their way to the gates. The people stopped and stared as the young pair ran by, knowing that something was going on, but not wanting to get involved. Behind them the crowds screamed and explosions shook the night as the slaughter began.

In minutes they were at their drop point. David fell to his knees, panting and wheezing. Wizzy paced nervously. "You need some exercise," she said as she looked around for the van. She climbed atop a car and scanned the area. "I can't see crap!"

A minute passed. Then five. Ten. Still no one came.

Wizzy grabbed David and pulled him to his feet. "We gotta go!" she said.

"Where?" David asked.

"The van should have been here by now! We can't wait. We'll have to make our way back alone."

"But… but that'll take days!" David exclaimed.

"Rules of the game! Let's move!" David started to object. "You'd rather go to jail?" she said.

He shook his head. "Ok. Which way?"

Wizzy started towards the thick woods that lined the parking area. David fell in behind her, feeling naked and vulnerable without Teddy and his fake ID. They had just made their way past the last bank of cars when headlights suddenly flared to life ahead of them.

"Freeze!" a loud voice said.

David felt his heart sink. If he was caught they'd take him back to the hospital… and then the man named Jeff would come and pick him up … and then…

David turned and ran back towards the lines of parked cars, seeking someplace out of the glare of the headlights; someplace to hide and plan his escape. He had reached some shadows when he heard voices raised behind him. They were yelling and telling him to stop running. "Get back here" someone yelled. Then they were … laughing.

Laughing?

"Hey, Pork Chop!" came a gruff voice. It was Sy's voice. David stopped and turned to see the man's shape silhouetted in the headlights, beckoning him back. "Where you going," the man asked. He was surrounded by the other boys, all bent over in laughter.

Wizzy stood in the middle of the group. Her arms crossed over her chest, foot tapping an impatient rhythm against the pavement. "Ain't a damned thing funny about this" she said.

David groaned and went to join his new friends. "Ha-ha-ha," he said sarcastically as they slapped him on the back and shuffled him into the van.

It had been a long eventful day. He was glad it was over.

**5**

Sy and the others laughed all the way back to the hideout. "Man, oh man," they said. "You should have seen yourselves!"

Wizzy was burning with humiliation. She didn't speak until they'd worked their way through the dark woods and back to the hideout, a trip that would have been impossible without Sy or Wizzy along.

They had decided to wrap up early, Sy explained after they were safely inside. The pay off had been better than he expected and he thought they'd just quit while they were ahead, before a real emergency sprang up. So he'd rolled through the parking lot, picking up the other teams. But when he picked up Animal and Tank, he'd decided to have a little fun, and had them sound the alarm.

"C'mon, Wizzy!" Sy pleaded, trying not to laugh. "It was a joke." Nance dutifully took the girl's side. "Well, I agree with The Wiz Kid," she said "What if they didn't see the pick up and ran into the trees. They'd be on the road for days. Not funny."

Sy waved them off and went to the computer to see how many accounts they'd managed to break into. "Women!" he complained. The boys all nodded agreement, whether they understood what he meant or not.

"How'd Pork Chop do?" Darek asked, trying to change the subject.

Everyone's eyes were suddenly on Wizzy. She set a cold look on David for a minute. He looked back, fully aware that he was at her mercy. She'd seen him panic at the sound of cannons and the mayhem of the fair. She'd seen him crying.

But she only shrugged and said, "Pretty damned good actually," Then she left to lie down.

Sy gave him a satisfied look. Darek patted him on the back. "Nice job, Pork Chop. We knew you had it in you."

David accepted the salutations, feeling kind of like a fraud and realizing that he was now in Wizzy's debt. Where would this all lead?

**6**

David couldn't get to sleep. He lay, tossing and turning in his cot, trying to digest the events of the day. So many emotions! News ones. Old ones. It was almost too much to experience. At what point did the Orga mind get overloaded with such feelings?

He wondered how he would he ever settle back into the calm life he had lived with Mommy, even if he did find his way home. And if he managed to get away, how would he find her? It was too much to think about. He closed his eyes and forced away his troubling thoughts.

He was starting to drift into a welcomed slumber when he noticed a light at the end of the room. He propped up on his elbow.

Voices. He heard voices. A strong feeling of déjà vu fell on him.

He rose from his cot and tip toed across the room, careful not to wake any of the gang. There was some sort of meeting going on. But, what could they be discussing so late in the night?

"Should we show him everything?" someone said.

This was all so… familiar. Was he dreaming?

"Nah! He's not ready. I don't care how well he did tonight," said another.

"No one is ever really ready," said someone else. It was Nance voice.

"But he's different," said a deep voice. Sy's voice. "I say we take him along."

"To Rouge?"

"Yeah," Sy said. "I got a feeling about this kid. He's different somehow. I say we teach him the ropes. Rouge City will be perfect for that."

"Well, let him practice with a few more Fairs first," Nance suggested.

"Fair enough," said Sy. The others laughed dutifully.

David pressed against the wall, his young Orga heart suddenly racing. The foundations of an escape plan were already forming somewhere in the unknown recesses of his brain. He wasn't sure exactly what the plan was yet, but it had something to do with Rouge City and escaping… and getting an address with the help of a brainy little hologram whose assistance he had one sought out.

"Ask Dr. Know," David whispered, as he tiptoed back to his cot. "There's nothing he doesn't."

_(cont...)_


	14. Chapter 14

_Hi, all! Been a while. Thanks for following along. Think I might have dropped a few background characters in this chapter, but don't have time to re-read through everything right now. I'll edit up the loose ends later. I just wanted to get something up now for those who are wating. - Bry_

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress**

**by Bryan Harrison**

**Pt 14**

**1**

Sy stood tall and flexed his shoulders.

"Ready?" he said.

David didn't answer at first. He thoughts were on the line of boys gathered in the main courtyard ahead. They all smiled in anticipation. But not nice smiles. No, he wasn't ready for this. How could anyone be? But if he ever wanted to make good his escape, he would have to go through with it. 'No time for dallying', as Sy always said. He resigned himself to the task

"Let's do it, " he said without looking up.

Sy suddenly reached down and grabbed a handful of David's hair, turned the boys head until their eyes locked and David could feel the man's breath on his face.

"I don't think you got the heart," he said, mocking. Then he began to twist the lock of hair; wrap it up until it was pulled tight over his knuckles. David's head began to burn with pain. It was terrible, excruciating. Not since the awakening of his new body in the amphibicopter had he felt such pain. He wanted to scream out, to writhe away. But he did not. Could not. Not if he was going to make his plan work. He clenched his jaws tight and returned the man's gaze defiantly, unflinching. Tears filled his eyes, spittle rolled from his lips and an uncontrollable growl warbled in his throat. Anger so strong that it made his heart race, formed in his head, made him want to reach out and rip Sy's eyes from their sockets. But he steeled himself against the pain and forced a mocking smile to his face.

"Is… that … all … you… got?" he hissed between gritted teeth.

The words seemed to satisfy Sy. A wry grin lit on the man's face. With one last painful yank, he let go of David's hair, and kicked him hard on the rear.

"Go!"

No time to think. Head still reeling with pain, David raced into The Gauntlet. The boys, his friends, his fellow thieves, began to pummel him. Kicks and punches rained down like hail. David bobbed and weaved and stuck back blindly, his eyes set on the opening at the end of the line.

Sy's lessons burned in his brain. '_The Gaunlet is a life lesson, boy. Pain and fear are only obstacles. Keep moving, even when it seems like you can't go another inch. The goal is all that matters. It is the only reason you're alive!' _

Flashes of light erupted like exploding stars in his field of vision as he was struck on the sides and the back of his head. No one struck his face. Even The Gauntlet had its rules. But everywhere else was fair game.

A foot caught him in the gut. David lost his breath and fell to his knees, only to feel the assault continue on his back. He tried to rise but was held immobile by his tormentors. They laughed and jeered, kicked and punched at his prostrate body.

"_Looser!"_ they yelled. "_Punk!" "Ponyboy!"_

"Get up damn you!" he heard Sy scream. "It's only pain! Ignore it!" David tried to rise again, but another kick landed on his midriff and he fell back to the dirt. The boys in The Gauntlet laughed and continued their attack.

Another voice rose above the fray. "Move it, Pork Chop! Get up you damn crybaby!"

It was Wizzy. She was standing somewhere at the edge of the crowd. She was not allowed to participate in the ceremony, nor had she ever had to suffer it. This was Sy's decree. But her voice gave David a new surge of energy. The recollection of her disgust with his tears at the Flesh Fair came to him. He wouldn't let that happen again.

With a roar of rage David rose up from his pain and back into the onslaught. Furious, seeing red, he flailed at his attackers, felt his fists connect with flesh and heard a cry of pain as one attacker moved back.

An opening!

He raced for the end of the line, feeling like he might vomit, blocking fists that flew at him, shoving at bodies that moved into his path, jumping over legs that lashed out to trip him. He closed his eyes and raced ahead, ignoring the pain, heedless of what injuries may come.

Someone's kick connected with his butt, sent a searing pain up his back. The pain turned to fire in David mind. He stopped running. _No more running!_

"Damn you!" he screamed, turning, swinging his fist and kicking out, hoping to strike whoever had given him such a cheap shot. But his strikes fell on nothing but air.

After a moment he stopped swing his fists. Opened his eyes. The crowd of boys was no longer attacking. They stood motionless. Staring. Smiling. But their smiles were different now, and there was something new in their eyes.

Respect.

Sy stood at the end of the courtyard; his big arms cross over his chest, his large bald head nodding.

"You did it, boy." He said softly. "Good job."

The courtyard erupted into cheering. The gang that had been beating him a moment before, suddenly surrounded him, hugged him in a tight group embrace, laughing and congratulating him. The older boy named Animal pressed his face close to David's. The boys left eye was red and swelling. But he was smiling.

"You got me," Animal said with a strange look of approval in his face. Derek poked his head up pointed to his bloodied nose. "Got me too," he said laughing. "I owe you."

David finally allowed himself to smile. He tried to say something about how they both deserved it, but before he could speak he abruptly collapsed. The gang caught him and held him up, as they did each other, as they had every boy who went through the ceremony.

"Let's chow!" Sy said, and the gang lifted David up on their shoulders and began to carry him inside, where a feast of stolen treats was waiting to be devoured.

Wizzy ran up beside the procession as they entered the building. David looked down at her and smiled lazily. He wanted to say something but could not even muster anough energy to move his lips. Wizzy seemed to understand.

"Good show!" she said, reaching out to touch his hand. "Good show." The look on her face let him know that his tears had been forgiven.

The training was over. The bond was sealed.

He was one of them now.

**2**

When does one become truly human? And how? It could not have simply been by occupying the human shell, this 'soft machine' that had been the Blue Fairy's gift to David. For, though he had undergone the ritual of membership, had gained their respect and trust, he knew that he was not truly the same as the people around him; so driven by the senses and the numerous needs of the body that they seemed conscious of little else.

Could it be the mastering this body, its senses, which made one human; the transcending of the immediate, of pain and fear, and the focusing of desires to achieve a goal? David was sure it had something to do with all of these things… and more. But how could one know if he had reached that point if he didn't know where it lay on the map of experience?

It was the "unknown, unknown" as he had heard Sy say one night.

The man was giving a speech after a long nights work, his crew of young thieves lay in a circle around him, wrapped in their blankets, like children about to receive a bedtime story.

David was among them for he was one of them now. Weeks had passed since his initiation ceremony. His wounds had healed, his bruises were gone. Still, he kept shifting his position to avoid sitting on parts of his body that were still sore. Under the gangs tutelage, he had become a seasoned thief. Pickpocket. An outlaw.

"It's not what you don't know that'll get you," Sy said, a finger raised high to emphasize the importance of this lesson. "It's what you don't know that you don't know."

Some of the boys laughed, but quickly silenced themselves when the large orbs of Sy eyes narrowed to slits and turned in their direction.

Wizzy was not so easily daunted.

"What the hell are you talking about, Sy?" she said. The man's dark gaze fell on her, as if he was about to issues some overdue discipline. But everyone knew it wasn't going to happen. Only she and Nance could get away with this type of challenge. He was silent a moment and then continued as if the girl had never spoken.

"We plan for the unexpected," Sy said, "What if someone gets nabbed? What if a tag triggers an alarm? What if our virus doesn't take out security long enough for us to finish the job? These are events we can't control but that we always anticipate. The 'known unknowns'.

"It's the unexpected things we don't know about that we can't prepare for. The obstacles we have never encountered before and haven't considered a possibility that can take us down."

"Like what?" one of the braver boys asked. Sy turned his eyes on the boy for a tense moment. But then he just shrugged his massive shoulders.

"I don't know," he said with a sigh. His sudden smile let everyone know it was OK to laugh this time. And so they did. But only briefly before he shushed everyone and continued.

"But we can never assume that things we have already planned for are the only things that can go wrong. So that's why I expect everyone to train hard, to keep their eyes open and minds clear, and stay on their toes when we do Rouge City this weekend."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. But when they did, the room filled with hoots and cheers. Boys jumped up on their beds, rose and high fived one another, began to hit each other with pillows and the food from half eaten meals.

"Alright, alright," Sy scolded. "Tone it down. Get some sleep. We have a lot of work to do before then."

David had been waiting for this announcement. Excitement raced through his veins, but he managed to mask it. He was becoming a master of feigned innocence. Even Sy had noticed this, had began letting him lead tagging teams into the parking lots of Flesh Fairs and Concert Halls, political events and even Church gatherings. David used his new talent now, raising a questioning eyebrow and looking on his fellow thieves with an expression that begged explanation.

Wizzy broke from her cheering and gawked at him.

"Please, pleeeease don't tell me you never heard of Rouge City," she said, shaking her head as if this was an all time low. David responded with a shrug. He had a difficult time repressing his laughter when Wizzy press her hands against her temples and screamed in disbelief.

"Oh – My - God! Where have you been all your life? Where?" she cried.

David smiled coyly. "You wouldn't believe a word of it," he said.

**3**

Training for 'The Rouge Job', as it came to be known, was as intense as Sy had promised. Physically and mentally. The scam was going to be a complex version of 'Little Cuz'. But the teams wouldn't arrive at the same time, they're arrivals would be staggered out over two to three hours, starting at Sunset and ending before the 3am rush out of the city. They coldn't afford to hae a hasty retreat clocked by traffic. So they had to work fast.

Everyone was expected to perfect their roles and they only had a few days to do it. Instead of feigning fights or arguments, numerous other distractions were thought up. And the teams had to keep moving so they wouldn't be seen pulling the same tricks by security or the attentive Mecha barkers that beckoned custimers from the doorways of various fun zones. There was no room for mistakes. And the unknoiwn unknowns had to be on everyone's minds.

So, at sunrise the courtyard was filled with yawning faces that didn't get to close their eyes again until after midnight. And that was only because Nance insisted. Sy would have kept going until the sun came up again.

"I don't want any mistakes," the man said in a heated argument with Nance. But when one of the boys passed out, he conceded and let them head back inside. When David and Wizzy helped the fallen boy up, he poked his head up and winked at them.

"Oh, you dirty little cheat," Wizzy said, smacking him on the head. But she didn't say anything about the faker to Sy. She was a tired as everyone else.

There was a good reason for the man's caution, Wizzy explained to David as they made themselves comfortable on the couch, rations of warm chocolate pudding in their laps.

"Rouge City is a high stakes job," she said in a mature tone that he had began to hear from her lately. "The take will be big. But the risk is bigger."

She went on to explain that 'The City The Never Blinks' was a high security zone, and had it's own police force. Scammers tended to stay away from it, and the ones that tried to work its streets usually got caught. Since private security did most of the policing, it wasn't into the regulated hands of the law that offenders fell. It was into the hands of privately owned guards. And the ones who hired them were not interested in legal procedure. They were interested in making examples. Rumors of bodies that had washed up along the Delaware shoreline were profuse. The details of the deaths were as varied as they were grotesque, and surely exaggerated. But, true or not, everyone got the point.

"Mess up in Rouge and you could pay the ultimate price," Wizzy said. She dragged a finger across her throat just in case David didn't get the drift. He did.

"Like Rooster," he said.

Wizzy chuckled.

"What," David said.

She looked at him blankly for a moment, as if she was sizing something up. Then she put a finger to her lips. David understood and nodded his agreement to silence. She continued.

"Rooster ran away,"she admitted. "That's all that happened. He took off from a Flesh Fair with a bag full of newbucks we scored. No ones seen him since. Sy was peeved. He was the one made up the story about him getting killed"

David thought this over for a moment. "Pretty tricky," he said, wondering what other lies he was being told.

Wizzy shrugged, seeming to sense David's thoughts. "It was for a good reason," she said "Sy calls it the 'noble lie'. Read about it in some book or something. Says it keeps us on our toes. But what I am telling you now is for reals. This is no Flesh Fair or cheap Holo-show. This is prime territory. These people are serious." The look in her eyes told him she was not playing.

"Pretty scary," David said, remembering his visit to the city of Mecha delights. He dared not say anything about it to her, though. Nothing could interfere with his escape.

Sy suddenly stood to address the room as everyone was getting into their beds.

"I know you're all tired and have had enough of my voice today," he said. "But I really don't give a damn right now. We are about to do a job that will bag us enough to relax for months. A year maybe. And we are doing it on someone else's turf."

He had everyone's attention now. Working someone else's zone was dangerous. Sy laughed at their tight expressions.

"Don't worry," he said. "We got permission for this job, and we coughed up a big cut of the take to get it. But we are only being allowed there because we're good and we're fast. Our reputation has got around. So give yourselves a hand!"

Applause broke out. Sy let it go on for a moment and then waved everyone to silence.

"Someone will be arriving tomorrow night. He's coming to check us out. His name is Olmier. Some of you may have heard it before?"

A rustle of whispers broke out in the dark room. David turned to Wizzy, but she held up her hand to let him know this was not the time for questions.

"Yeah. _That_ Olmier. And he is coming himself. Not sending some lackey. So this is big time. I want everyone on their toes. Look sharp! He'll want to see all the routines and I want them perfect. _Perfect!_ Any questions?"

David had a lot of them but dared say nothing. He glanced at Wizzy and was surprised at the serious look on her face. After a moment she turned to face him, her face grim.

"No screwing around tomorrow, David" she said. "Be tight and get it right. This is big time."

"Yeah," he said, wondering how all this would affect his escape plans. But he was determined to go through with it no matter what.

Wizzy punched him playfully on the arm and dashed off to her own bed, leaving David to his thoughts.

He was drifting off to sleep when he realized she wasn't calling him 'Pork Chop' anymore.

**4**

The sun was sinking in the west, casting a flaming ray of golden light through the sky, when Sy called an end to rehearsals and made the crew stand in a line. They'd been working all day and David thought he could do all the routines in his sleep. There was the "Lookie There" where you made someone look at something your partner was doing and then planted a tag. There was one called "The Footise, where one member pretended a Mark had stepped on their foot. The other one raised a ruckus about it until the man or woman tried to help and then the tag was planted. There were dozens of tricks they were going to use for the Rouge job, all based on the same principle. But these Marks would not be the same as the Flesh Fair crowd. They'd have money and each hit would be bigger Much bigger.

Sy began to pace nervously too and fro as the darkness slowly grew. David had never seen the man nervous and wondered just who this mysterious Olmier was, and what kind of power he wielded that could make a giant like Sy worry.

After some time passed a thin buzzing filled the air. David was familiar with the sound by now. It was an alarm. Someone was coming.

Sy snapped his fingers and pointed at his crew. "I want this perfect," he reminded them.

Something appeared overhead. A boxy craft that hovered a couple hundred feet above the courtyard. It had no lights and wasn't visible in the dark, but its shape blocked the stars. Then it began to grow. David realized it was descending. After it had come down between the break in the overhanging trees, he could see it was a cruiser. And it looked expensive.

The vehicle was solid black, and the windows opaque from the outside. Just a thin strips of silver lined where the doors sealed shut. It lowered noiselessly to the forest floor just feet from where the gang was waiting. David wasn't even aware of the softly humming motor until it finally stopped.

A man stepped out of the front of the car. He was big, bigger than Sy, and wore a black cap, black suit, shining back shoes, and thick black glasses on his face. 'How can he even see with those on?' David wondered. Then he realized that maybe the man didn't need light to see. That maybe he wasn't really a man at all.

The man that couldn't be a man, walked to the line of boys. He stopped, folded his hands behind his back and looked them over. Then turned his face to Sy. Nothing was said and David realized that he… that 'it' was probably checking them all for weapons. After a moment more of silent inspection the Mecha guard walked back to the car and opened the back door.

The man that jumped out and approached Sy was not what David had expected to see. He was short and chubby, he wore dark glasses too, but not so dark that David couldn't see the thick dark brows above the black points of his eyes through them. His clothes were overly colorful, as if he had bought them only because they were expensive and he wanted everyone to know it. He walked like he was late for an important meeting, and patted Sy on the shoulder like comforting an old friend. So small was he that he had to reach up to do this. It was an almost comical sight. But no one dared laugh.

"So, so, soooo…" the man said in a voice full of false cheer, rolling his hands together as he turned to face the boys. "This is the crew I've heard so much about?" There was something predatory in his words.

Sy nodded. "They're the best. Fast. Efficient. Never lost one of them."

Olmier looked up at Sy and lifted his glasses. "Really! Really! Well… that's just great! Excellent! Yes! Yes!"

David had never really experienced anybody like this, the fake smile, the overly effusive gestures. He could already tell somehow that it was all a mask; that something cruel and ugly lay beneath. He didn't know how he knew this. A few months ago it would have completely slipped by him. He would have taken the man at face value. But he had spent a lot of time in the the dirty underbelly of the world and was he was beginning to recognize the creatures that dwelled there. Even if they wore expensive suits and rode in the back of expensive cars.

The man set his glasses back in place and started walking before the line of boys. "Yes, they look like they're good at their job," he said. "Nice. Nice." He stopped in front of Animal and stared at the tattooed face like he'd just encountered some exotic creature he couldn't name. Animal smiled back and the man moved on, nodding his head as he inspected the crew.

"But I seem to recall a chance encounter with a punkish little grifter named …," Olmier stopped and snapped his fingers repeatedly over his head, as if this might free up his memory. "Oh what was that boy called?" he said

Sy shifted nervously, as if he knew what was coming next. David suddenly realized what it might be and understood that Sy might well be facing one of those unexpected unknowns he had waned them all about.

"Rooster!" Olmier said finally, as if he had not known the name all along. "Yes, yes, yes, that was it." He turned to face his Mecha bodyguard. "Rooster wasn't it," he said. But the thing didn't respond. Everyone knew he had not expected it to.

Olmier pretended to be disappointed by his guards silence, and turned to Sy. "Well, I am sure that was it. He was a rather disturbing little hustler that I caught working in my zone a few months back." The man lifted his glasses again. "Without my permission…and I assume without yours?"

All the gang eyes were on Sy. But no one said anything. Rooster was supposed to have died at the hands of an angered Mark. This was the story they'd all been told.

To his credit Sy never flinched. "We had a kid by that name," he said calmly. "But he got capped by a Mark at a Flesh Fair."

"I thought you said you never lost anybody," Olmier replied quickly.

"Nobody that mattered" Sy shot back. "And Rooster ain't that uncommon a name." he added. "It must have been someone else."

David found himself rooting for their boss. He was a crook and David still felt anger for all the pain he suffered at his hands. But Olmier was something much worse. Something… evil.

"Yes! Yes! Well, I've never met anyone else with that name but , ok. It could have been some other Rooster," Olmier said. "What's strange is this punk seemed to know a lot about you and your crew. Even said he worked with you for a while, and had the strange notion that you'd vouch for him."

"The boy named Rooster died," Sy said, staring at the man with an unreadable expression. But David thought he might know what was behind that flat gaze._ 'Don't mess with me in front of my crew' _is what David was sure he saw in Sy's face. Olmier must have seen it too. He slipped his glasses back down and hummed thoughtfully.

"Yes, yes, yes… that much is true," Olmier said. "He is dead by either account."

Sy didn't react. No one did. But everyone got the point. This was no game. The confrontation was over. Olmier turned to face the gang.

"Tomorrow night a very large convention will be held at an establishment in Rouge City. Flocks of Norwegian gentlemen and ladies will be gathering for an annual celebration of the life of a man I am sure none of you have ever heard of and don't care about. So it doesn't matter.

"These people are wealthy. Very wealthy. And equally careless with their credits. They are also very adoring of children, so the little games you play will be perfect for this event.

"Through the deal I have negotiated with your boss, I am allowing you to work my zone for this night alone. If all goes well I may even consider …"

Olmier suddenly stopped talking and turned towards David. He lifted his glasses so that his look of shock was clear to all. David met the man's gaze and the two stayed that way, staring at each other in silent confusion for a moment. Then Olmier turned to Sy.

"Where did you find that thing?" he said.

David's heart sank. His stomach turned. But he didn't let it reach his face.

"What?" Sy asked, genuinely confused.

Olmier pointed at David, snapping his fingers rapidly. "That… that… _David_. Isn't that what they're called?"

Sy stepped forward, his eyes suddenly suspicious on David. "You know this boy?"

"Boy?" Olmier said in disbelief. "Oh, come on. You seriously don't know? It's a machine!"

He laughed.

No one else did.

David could feel all the eyes on him. He forced his fear back and donned an innocent look. Then he said the words he hadn't had to use in a long, long time.

"I'm a boy," David said, calmly.

Olmier gawked at him a moment more and then broke out into wild laughter. It was less a humorous sound than a sinister one.

"My-O-my," the man said, slapping his hands together joyfully. "There has got to be a buck in this."

David's mind was racing but he managed to keep his calm posture and even made a convincing shrug as he returned all the stares he was receiving from the people who thought they knew him. Even Wizzy's eyes had narrowed cautiously.

'What now,' he wondered.

He had stepped right into one of those 'unknown unknowns'.

(cont...)


	15. Chapter 15

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress**

**by Bryan Harrison**

**Part 15**

**1**

The boy was blond. He stood about 4 feet tall and weighed around 60 lbs. He appeared to be in his tenth year; dressed in a plain plaid shirt and corduroy slacks that seemed to have had every little wrinkle ironed out by the hands of a clinging, obsessive mother. Except for the vapid smile that was hinted in the corner of his mouth, his face was emotionless.

But his eyes told the story. There was nothing there.

He was Mecha. An imitation. Fast food family. Commitment free and disposable. Symbol of humanity's detachment from the natural world; and from itself.

"A love of your own…." Sy's said, reading aloud the words on the monitor, written above the free-floating image of the pretend child. "Emotive response capable child simulator. Available in male and female profiles and five racial variations, with adjustable hair coloration and textures. Now featuring adaptive temperament filters for quicker acclimation." Sy's voice trailed off then, and he backed away from the screen, lost in thought, pinching his chin and shooting quick skeptical glances in David's direction. But he would not meet the boy's eyes.

David kept his face, but inside he was pleading with Sy to not listen to the crazy man, Olmier. If only Sy would look in his eyes, he might see the plea and respond to it.

Behind Daivd, and blessedly out of his view, for he could no longer bear the sight of the man, Olmier chuckled and clucked his tongue; rubbed his hands together like the hackneyed villain from a dime store dreadful.

"My-o-my-o-my…" he kept mumbling between bouts of dark laughter.

Nance paced nervously around the room. Her face unreadable in the shadows, for the monitor was the only light. She stopped now and then, and opened her mouth to say something, to perhaps scold Sy again for not checking David out before adopting him. But after a moment of angry silence she simply sighed and continued her pacing.

The rest of the gang had been told to wait outside. Whether this was for secrecy or for David's safety, he did not know. Their whispered speculations and occasional laughter came in though the windows on the cool night air. But he could not make out their words. Wizzy's voice was not among them.

Neville, the gangs Mecha butler, and Olmier's black suited thug, stood silently at the edge of the room. Stoic, metal attendants, waiting for the moment when their differing services might be needed.

"I'm telling you, there's gold in this somehow," Olmier said. Again.

Sy sighed and rubbed his shining bald head like he was trying to massage away an ache. David understood the man's expressions well enough by now to know that he wanted to tell the creepy little crook to shut the hell up. But this was about business. He still needed the Rouge City job. David did too.

"Let me think this over," is all Sy said. He sat at the computer again to browse the Cybertronics site, his face grim and introspective in the shifting light of the monitor. Unfortunately his silence allowed Olmier to continue talking aloud.

"It's illegal to duplicate a living person, "Olmier said. "So if this isn't just some bizarre coincidence then…" he snapped his fingers rapidly. "And you're sure he's flesh? That's been established beyond all doubt?"

"Fiber don't bleed," Sy replied without looking.

Olmier was undeterred. "How can you be sure? Maybe… maybe he's some new thing, designed to scope you out." As if in an epiphany, the man jumped up, waving his hand like he held a winning lottery ticket in his sweaty palm.

"A spy!" he yelled. "Yes, yes yes! Wouldn't put it past the Feds to lean on Cybertronics. And you know how Hobby is. Acts like a boy scout, but he'd never turn down the chance at a buck. He could build something like that. Yes!"

David's heart dropped as Sy seemed to consider the idea for a second. He fixed David with a hard skeptical stare. But then he shook his head.

"We don't run in the same circles, Olmier. I don't know anyone named Hobby or what he's capable of," he said.

Even Nance, whose anger had so far left her without words, thought this idea was stupid enough to reply.

"Last time I checked, Fiber don't get bad teeth like what I tore out of his mouth," she said. "They sure don't eat, and this one can't stop. Little pig." Then she pointed an accusing finger at David. "And they damned well don't leave messes in the bathroom, like that one does. How many times I got to tell you watch your aim, Pork Chop?"

In spite of the dire situation David found himself blushing at the recrimination. That was one of the human behaviors he had yet to master.

"I say scan him again!" Olmier said.

"He ain't fiber!" Nance said. "I'd a'known when he passed the tree," Nance said.

Olmier was confused. "Tree? What about a tree?"

Sy didn't want their security measures discussed with someone he could never trust. He stood and waved the confrontation off.

"The question is where did he come from," he said. He started to approach David who was sitting silently on the couch, hands folded in his lap like a child who got caught forging his report card. But Olmier jumped ahead of Sy and faced David like some Grand Inquisitor, chin up, hands on his hips.

"I'll ask the questions," he said.

Sy rubbed his head again. Nance rolled her eyes. David had to force himself not to chuckle at the way the stubby little hustler had to puff himself up to look imposing.

"What is your real name, boy?" he said in a commanding tone.

David donned an innocent expression. "No, it isn't."

The response made Olmier hesitate a moment. "What is your name," he repeated, cautiously.

David pretended to be confused. He couldn't let them know who he was. Not with this man around.

"I don't know anyone by that name," he said finally.

"What name?" Olmier demanded.

"That name."

"What?"

"Yes."

Sy managed to not smile. Nance could not hide hers.

"What name are you talking about?" Olmier barked, his face growing red.

"Yes," David said, fighting laughter. "_What_ is the name I am talking about. I don't know anybody named What, and it certainly isn't mine!"

Olmier grimaced. "Oh, we got a funny one, eh? Well, maybe this'll knock the jokes out of you!"

The man stepped towards David, hand raised high. But Sy caught his wrist before he could strike.

"My crew. My responsibility," Sy hissed, gripping Olmier's wrist so hard it made the man whine. This provoked the Mecha bodyguard. It stepped away from the wall, looking back and forth from Sy to its master. It's face twisted menacingly as it waited for a command to action.

David noticed Nance backing slowly towards the table near the large chair that Sy used like a throne. He knew what was hidden there, knew it would blow the Mecha's metal head from its shoulders and leave a hole in the wall behind it. If that happened, there would be war between Olmier and Sy. For his own reason David didn't want that.

The tense moment lasted only seconds. But it seemed like minutes had passed before Olmier finally waved his guard away. He said nothing, but his face was red and his jaw working silently. He was clearly a man that did not take 'no' easily, and definitely did not like being told what to do. But he would respect Sy's code. For now, at least.

Sy straightened himself up and confronted, David. He said nothing at first, only stared down with a powerful, unreadable gaze.

"Can I trust you, boy?" he said at last.

"Yes." David said. The word came from his lips faster than he would have imagined. He realized that he had been waiting for that question. Waiting for Sy to talk to him, David the person, rather than try to understand him by looking at what he used to be. He also knew he could not explain this to any of them.

Sy continued to stare. David stared back, unflinching. Something passed between he and Sy then; some understanding that David had not yet experienced in his new life. With an emotional shock he realized what it had to be: this hard, unforgiving crook, con man and leader of a violent gang of tossed away children, was the closet thing to a father he'd ever had. It surely had not been Henry, whose only concern for David had been how convenient or inconvenient was his presence. It had surely not been Alan Hobby, the most likely candidate, but whose motivations were still too complex for David to understand. He was sure however, that love had not been among them.

Rather it was Sy, the most unlikely of men, who had, in his own hardened way, taught David how to survive, how to make his way in an unforgiving world; the world that Mommy had spoken of in his other life, when she had left him in the forest that fateful day.

The thought seized David's heart and he was stunned to realize how one part of him fought for Sy's approval, even while the other was busy planning the man's betrayal. The thought made him look away from Sy. But he quickly forced himself to stare back into the man's eyes, and speak with fierce resolve.

"I have never let you down, Sy," David said. "And I don't plan to. But you make up your mind one way or the other. There's no time for dallying."

Ordinarily Sy would have snickered at hearing his words thrown back at him. But his face was still stone. A million unanswered questions loomed behind his gaze. David had to know what was going on in his mind. Then the man's eyes slowly softened. He'd made up his mind.

"Nothing changed,"Sy said. "He goes with us."

This was one place where Olmier and Nance agreed. They both made sounds of shock and caution.

"We need to find out more about him, Sy. Dammit!" Nance complained. "I mean, that spy theory is bull, but why's he look so much like that machine kid?"

Olmier was less diplomatic.

"This is my territory! My gig!" he hissed. "Therefore, I call the shots and I say he sits it out."

Sy waved them both down.

"When I found this boy in the forest, he was a mewling little kitten. He wouldn't have lasted for more than another day. Now he…." Sy gestured to David and took on a curious smile. "Well, he's not a kitten anyway. He's proved himself to my satisfaction," he said. "He earns his keep and makes us money on top. We spent a lot of time and effort training him and he's one of our best now. He ran the gauntlet and he's part of my crew. If we go, he goes."

It was a heavy gamble and David wasn't sure why Sy had played it.

Olmier was silent, glaring at Sy. He was over a barrel and all could see it. There was no time to find another gang, even if there was one that could pull off this particular job.

"Your crew. Your responsibility," Olmier said. There was a message in those words.

Sy snickered, as if the words were a punch line to a joke that only he and Olmier understood. But David understood the threat all too well. If anything went wrong, the payback would be merciless. Fatal. He felt pang of guilt for what he had planned and the price that he knew Sy was likely to pay. But then the memory of Mommy's loving smile came into his minds eye.

He had sacrificed all to find her. He wound not stop now.

"Yes, yes, yes, "Sy said, mockingly. "I know the rules of the game."

'Is it a game?' David wondered silently. No, he quickly decided. Sy was wrong. This was no game. And there surely were no rules that he could figure out.

**2**

The glow that David could now see on the horizon, could only be from one place. Everything near it had been submerged by the swollen Delaware River long before anyone around him had been born. In minutes, the line of colorful lights, still small in the distance, appeared in the port window of the cargo copter that Olmier had supplied for their arrival and departure. The man had spared no expense to make this a successful enterprise. The profits would still be huge.

Soon great statue heads jutting from the deep waters of the river were clearly visible. David's excitement grew. He went over his plan in his head again, and checked his pockets to make sure the money he had been stashing away was still there.

They now were passing over the lines of traffic that flooded in and out of the mouths of the great heads, restless tides of Orga rushing to and fro, either seeking satisfaction or already sated on the delights of the City That Never Blinks.

"Rouge City! Yeah!" someone yelled. Everyone laughed and exchanged high fives. The lights were off per Olmier instructions, but David could hear the slap of palms in the dark. He could not, however, make out any of their conversations over the loud wind-like wine of the copters thrusters.

None of the gang had spoken two words to him since the revelation of the night before. Sy had made it clear that there was to be no questioning David about the robot boy at the Cybertronics site; that if any vigilante interrogation occurred, his response would be without mercy. So even Wizzy had kept her mouth, speaking only when it was necessary, or to remind others about Sy's command when they tried to confront David.

"We're a crew!" Sy had yelled as the gang bedded down for the night. "And he's part of that crew now. As long as we stay together, no one can tear us apart. That's all that matters and all anyone else needs to know."

Sy had not even brought it up during the last rehearsals of the day. He'd been distant, approaching David only to pull Wizzy away on some errand. He'd only spoken to David once; a few cryptic words as the copter landed in the clearing. He'd slid up silently behind David and grabbed him by the shoulder.

"I'm not a fool, Pork Chop. I just do things my own way."

David had waited for the rest of the statement. But that was apparently all the man had to say. He wasn't sure what it had meant, and Sy had walked away before explaining. But David was certain that a huge part of Sy's resolve had been due to Olmier's challenge. The man would not tolerate a puffed up little thug telling him his business.

It was 'guy thing' as Nance was prone to say; a war of egos between men whose lives demanded they be full of themselves. It was at once their strength and their most obvious weakness; one that David would have to take advantage of to make his escape.

Someone grabbed him and pulled him away from the window. David turned to see Wizzy's face in the light from the portal, staring at him with a strange, unexpected expression.

It was unlike her. It caught him off guard.

"We're parking," she said and then sat back down.

Olmier had kept the lights low lest anyone see his cargo of underage thieves, so David couldn't see her now. But he pondered the strange expression that had been on her face as took his a seat against the wall.

Was that sadness he'd seen in her eyes?

The copter began a slow descent onto Olmier's private landing bay. It was situated on the north end of the city, next to the garish Casino the man ran as a front for his real businesses: contraband and thievery. From the parking bay, the gang would traverse a maze of old underground tunnels to their positions around the hotel. These would allow them to escape scrutiny. It would also provide quick escape if anything should go wrong.

A scuffle broke out nearby. David heard Wizzy say something in anger, and then someone else speak. It was Darek's voice.

"Oh my God. What the heck is this thing for, Wiz?"

The words caught David's attention. What thing?

There was more scuffling and some laughter, and then Darek said, "Why do you need a…"

But the boy's words were interrupted by the smack of flesh hitting flesh. A punch.

"Stay out of my bag, you idiot!" Wizzy said. David could hear the rustle of cloth as she stuffed whatever it was, back into her shoulder bag. But in the darkness, he could not see what had caused the confrontation.

"A bit touchy, are we?" Darek said. He tone was sarcastic, but it was clear that Wizzy had hurt him.

As the multi-colored walls of the parking bay rose up in the copter windows, David was going over his plans again. He had to time things just right. He breathed deeply, to calm his mind; tried not to let his excitement cloud his judgment. No matter how much Sy acted like he trusted him, David knew the man had new suspicions. He had to make his escape tonight. Nothing could go wrong.

It was at that moment, while he was considering his possible obstacles, when a troubling new thought struck him.

_Had he misunderstood Sy's decision to bring him along?_

The thought was disturbing, but it intrigued him. He let his mind follow the string of possibilities. Sy wasn't stupid. He rarely took risks. Too much to lose. It would have been easy enough to just leave David behind for this job. Sure, he had learned the trade and worked well with Wizzy. But was he that necessary?

Was it simply an act of trust... a war of egos... or was it part of a bigger plan?

As David's mind began to fill with dark new possibilities, the copter touched down with a thud and he felt the hydraulic landing gear gently lower the craft to the ground.

No turning back now.

While the others prepared for the night, David's mind continued following a strange thread: What if Sy had really taken Olmier's spy suggestion seriously? If Sy really believed David was a spy for the Feds, the last thing he would do was to let David know he believed that. Element of surprise. So naturally he'd pretend to think it was a stupid suggestion.

And if he thought David was a spy, wouldn't he also assume that someone had sent him... and that they knew where he was… so if David should suddenly disappear, wouldn't that raise questions? Wouldn't Sy be implicated if something bad happened?

So, obviously, if Sy were going to do something… drastic… he couldn't do it at the hideout.

The reasoning seemed ridiculous, but David couldn't stop himself. The cryptic words between Sy and Olmeir suddenly took on new dimensions.

"_Your crew. Your responsibility"… "I know the rules of the game"… "I'm no fool… I just do things my own way."_

David felt his breath coming faster as his mind began to shape these words into a dangerous new interpretation. Was he seeing these things correctly for the first time? Or was this just the nervousness from his pending escape making him see something that wasn't there?

Pink hued light poured into the copter as the door hissed open, and two of Olmier's black clad Mecha arrived to usher the gang out of the craft and towards the secret passageways.

"Let's do this," Wizzy said, beckoning David to follow. David rose slowly, noticing for the first time the large lump in the bag she carried over her shoulder. She always took that bag on jobs. But she usually left it in the transport.

And wasn't it bigger than usual?

Dareks words echoed darkly in his mind.

_Oh My God! What the heck is that thing for Wiz?_

What had the boy seen?

David's mind continued to gnaw on this irritating new suspicion as he followed the girl out of the copter into the stark, shifting lights of the parking bay. If they just wanted him out of the way without having it linked back to the gang, wouldn't the best method be to get rid of him someplace where anyone ... or anything, might take the blame? Perhaps someplace public?

Someplace crowded?

David shuddered. It seemed impossible but they surely couldn't afford to just let him go. He knew too much.

He knew _everything_.

And who was the most likely candidate for a job like that? Wasn't it the person he was least likely to suspect; the person who was always around him?The person who he trusted the most.

He looked at Wizzy. Something was different about her tonight. She wasn't laughing or teasing the guys. She wasn't angry or sarcastic. She didn't seem excited about doing Rouge City. There was something … _resigned_ about her.

But was she capable of the foul deed that now burned in the pit of David's imagination?

No, he told himself. He was just being paranoid. That must be it. They were friends. Weren't they?

Of all the evil things David knew Orga were capable of, this kind of treachery was the least imaginable. But the trail of logic was too convincing.

And why her sad eyes? _Why_?

"Wake up, Pork Chop!" Wizzy yelled. "It's show time!"

David broke from his thoughts to see her standing near a door that opened on a dark hallway. He hesitated a moment, searching her face for something that would alleviate his suspicions. But she had become unreadable.

"Do you want him to carry you?" she said, gesturing to the Mecha thug that stood beside her, staring patiently from behind its shield of dark glasses.

Reluctantly, David followed her into the doorway.

The gang made their way through the tunnels, under the thumping night rhythms of Rouge City that filtered in though speakers on the walls. The sound of laughter and crowds of festive Orga came down the corridors that shot off in different directions along their path. Two by two, the others paired off and went down different tunnels, headed for elevators that would take them to their positions in the plaza. Soon it was only he and Wizzy being led by their silent Mecha guide.

Was it only a coincidence that they would be the only ones left in the deep? If anything was going to happen, it would happen soon.

David scrutinized the tunnels that crisscrossed their path, searching for possible escape routes; wondering how to find out what was in Wizzy's bag… before she had a chance to use it.

**3**

The hallway grew wide, wound deep below the city. The lights were a dim, jaundiced glow, the floor damp, and the whole place smelled of salt water and rot. It was a remnant of the original network of the maintenance thoroughfares, and hadn't been used since the new ones had been built atop it. So it was off the security grid. No one knew they were here. That thought was not lost on David.

Olmier and other members of the criminal element, who supplied the customers of Rouge with off menu delights used these forgotten passages to transport their illegal goods. It also served well for transporting people with illegal intent. A gang of vagabonds arriving all at once in any of the main lots would catch the eye of security cameras. But this way they could simply pop up at their positions. As long as the City's security system didn't make a connection, no would be no investigation.

Eventually the tunnel came to an elevator. Wizzy turned to their escort.

"We'll take it from here," she said. "And make our way back on our own."

David was surprised to see the black clad Mecha simply nod and walk away. It's retreating footfalls were muted by the damp floor. And then disappeared.

They were alone.

Wizzy pressed the call button and David heard the old machinery whir to life. He cast another suspicious look at her bag but, in the dim light, could not make out the contours of whatever she carried.

He could take the tension no more. He had to know.

"Why the bag?" he said, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Wizzy turned at his question, but said nothing. David thought he saw that sad look in her eyes again. But she turned back before he could be sure.

He wanted to ask about it again, but didn't want her to know his suspicions. Surprise was his only advantage. If she went for… whatever it was, she might not expect him to try and stop her. She was tough, yes. And fast. But he was bigger. Stronger. And his time with the gang had toughened him. He was no longer a soft little kid that the world could push around at will.

The elevator arrived. It shuttered to a stop and the old sliding doors whined as they opened. Wizzy boarded without saying a word.

David hesitated. Was this the moment to make his escape? He had originally planned to slip away during one of the scams. He would pretend to be chasing her during the 'Little Cuz" game, then he could just run the other direction; make his way to Dr Know and find out where his Mother lived.

But the situation might have changed. Drastically.

He scanned the tunnels quickly, but had no idea which way to head. He couldn't go back the way they came. That would lead him right to Olmier and…

"What the hell are you waiting for?" Wizzy blurted. She was staring at him with an impatient glare.

"Nothing," David said quickly. "It's just that… these elevators are old and…. I'm not sure if they're safe."

Wizzy rolled her eyes and sighed. Then she began to jump up and down, heavily, stomping the floor of the old lift with all the weight of her small body. It shuddered and creaked, but her actions had no other effect.

"Satisfied?" she said with obvious sarcasm.

David knew he had to make a decision. Either he ran now, or he played along until he was sure if his new theory was correct. After a moment, he stepped onto the elevator and took a place where he could watch her from the corner of his eye.

She pressed the top button on an array that had at least 20 stops. The doors slid shut and the lift started to rise quickly. David pressed back against the wall, ready to act, wondering how far beneath the city they were.

Even when he got away he would have to find Dr Know. It had been so long since he had been here… and he had never really got a lay out of the place. Without Teddy he'd have no way to access the City schematic or to find out if they were still looking for him. He hated leaving the toy behind. And not just because of it's convenience. He had become attached to the thing. But there was nothing he could do about that.

His was certain now, that his life was on the line.

Wizzy suddenly shifted her weight and David saw her reach for the strap of the bag on her shoulder. He pressed back against the wall and clenched his fist, ready to throw his hardest punch if she slipped the bag off, or tried to pull anything from it.

But she only pulled it tighter against her arm. David's tension must have been clear in his stance, because she turned and frowned in his direction.

"What's up your butt?" she said.

"Nothin," David replied. But too quickly. And there had been a break in his voice. He cleared his throat. "I just don't like small spaces," he said, trying to explain away his tension. It wasn't really a lie. Not that lying bothered him anymore.

Wizzy smiled for the first time that night. But there was nothing nice about it. It seemed to say _'I know what's on your mind._' It did nothing to reassure him, if that had been its purpose.

The elevator finally stopped. The doors slid open on a large, unlit passageway, lined with large glass windows. Through them David could see a floating marquee featuring holographic images of a winged Angel and horned Devil, locked arm in arm and laughing. Beyond them, a line of brightly lit Mecha dancers could be seen, kicking their legs high in a Chorus Line on the ledge of a building shaped like the torso of woman. The robots were performing on what would be the woman's breasts, had she been real. David realized that that they were a few stories above the surface, looking at the upper levels of buildings that lie across the street.

Why here?

Wizzy pressed a button on the console. It wasn't like the others. It was red and bore a large 'X'. She noticed David's suspicious stare.

"It's a lock," she explained, calmly. "We don't want anyone taking our lift down, do we? We might need it quick, right?"

David nodded hesitantly. And then followed her into the hall.

The girl walked to the glass and gazed down on Rouge City for a quiet moment. She sighed, as if considering something. Moments passed in unbearable silence. Only the thump of The City's incessant Techno soundtrack could be heard.

Then she turned to face David. This time the look in her face was unmistakable. It was the look of a person who has a hard job to do.

"It's time," she said, sadly.

She slipped the bag off her shoulder.

**4**

David's first punch missed completely. He'd caught her off guard; saw a look of shock on her face as she moved on her. But she was faster than he'd expected and ducked at the last instant. Fortunately she had moved in the direction he was hoping she might.

His contingency punch landed solidly against her cheek. And just in time, for she was adjusting her footing to throw one of her notorious roundhouse kicks. Instead she fell back, her mouth open in a soundless cry of pain.

David was surprised by how easy it all had become: this human game of violence. Once he had committed to the fight, and thrown the first punch, it was like being a dream. Seconds seem to ticked by as he watched her fall back against the wall, swearing and flailing blindly out at him. She tried to recover her balance, but David swept his foot across her legs and she fell in a heap to the floor. The girl was spitting curses as she shot a swift kick at his knees.

But he was already gone.

David ran to the bag, which had fallen to the floor, and snatched it up. He was about to open it, to recover whatever weapon she had intended to use on him, when he heard her rise up and rush in his direction. He turned just in time to see her twist and arch her body; to see her foot leave the floor and snap though the air by his head.

She missed!

He screamed triumphantly, exhilarated by the blood pulsing game of life and death, and bore his fist down on her exposed face. But he realized an instant too late that she had set him up; had kicked high to draw his guard upwards.

Her knee connected with his midriff. He felt his breath forced out of him.

The pain was horrific. If not for his experience in the gauntlet, it would have been paralyzing. There was nothing like it in the Mecha world; nothing to compare to this visceral gut churning feeling. But he had survived the gauntlet. He had learned how to fight through the pain.

Breath gone and body searing, David used his greatest advantage, his size, and lunged at her. She had been preparing for another kick; was already on one foot as the other arched for the strike. So David's move caught her off balance, sent them both crashing to the floor.

"You idiot! You idiot!" she was yelling as she tried to get up. David lunged at her again, felt his shoulder strike her face and heard a satisfying grunt of pain as her head bounced against the floor.

He jumped for the bag again. Caught it and rolled into the comer. Too filled with pain to rise, he pressed himself against the wall and grasped the bag to his chest. From this position he could kick at her until his breath came back.

Wizzy rose, wobbling and clutching her head, mouthing indecipherable curses. David watched her, hoping she would not regain her senses before he caught his breath.

But she did. And a new fear grew in him as he watched her reach down, slip up the leg of her pants, and pull something out.

The blade glinted fiercely in the light flashing through the window.

"Sy was always suspicious," she hissed, panting as she stepped slowly towards him. "But when the little freak Olmier told us about you, he knew for sure… knew you could never be one of us."

David didn't respond. He used all his strength to try and open the bag before she realized what he was doing. But Wizzy rushed at him. He kicked up at her, but she sidestepped with amazing speed and planted a knee on his stomach.

David woofed in pain. His head swam with nausea. He tried to roll away. But then he suddenly felt the cold of steel pressed against his throat. He gritted his teeth.

So this was it? All this fighting and suffering to end like this? A trapped animal, caught up in a game that he had never wanted any part of?

"I should cut you like the piglet you are, Pork Chop!" Wizzy yelled. "I should cut you open and let you bleed out right here!"

And that was fully what he expected her to do. But amazingly, she rose let out a shrill cry of anger and frustration, and threw the knife across the hall.

David stared up in confusion. His stomach felt like it was tied in knots. Sick was rising in his throat. But somehow he managed to mouth a single word.

"What?" he said.

Wizzy glared down on him with furious eyes.

"You want the bag? You got it!" She said. "It was for you anyway, idiot!" She placed a hand to her cheek and grimaced at the pain. Then she placed it to her nose and pulled it away.

"Dammit! I'm bleeding!" she screamed. "You stupid little puke! You bloodied me! Why'd you jump me? _Why_?"

David could not respond. He rolled onto his back and tried to sit. But his stomach was too painful. So he just lay there, knowing that at least she wasn't going to kill him.

Wizzy plopped down against the wall and the two were silent as they recovered from their fight. Their breathless panting slowly subsided. At last David was able to prop himself up on an elbow. He gazed at her apologetically.

"Well, go on and open it, stupid!" Wizzy was past anger now. Something different was in her voice. It was that same mysterious resolve that David had mistaken for murderous intent.

He pushed himself up and carefully loosened the straps of the bag. Then he put a hand in. There was something furry in there. He knew immediately what it was. Shame flooded his face. He'd been a fool.

He pulled the toy bear from the bag and set it on his lap. Teddy was off. Its lifeless eyes stared back at him. Seeing nothing.

David sighed. "Wizzy… I… don't know what to say. I thought that… that you were going to…"

"What… kill you?"

David nodded, embarrassed at the admission. The threat had seemed so real. But it was all so ridiculous now.

She chuckled darkly at the thought. "You a damned fool," she laughed. And then grew serious.

"When Sy saw that freaky toy boy that looked like you, he knew that Olmier wouldn't stop until he got his hands on you. The guys a hustler from hell. Sees a buck in everything. Always looking for an angle. And he doesn't quit until he gets what he wants. You would never have been safe."

"That's why Sy wanted me to come along," David said. "So he could say I ran away. Take the weight off his back."

"Oh, figured that out on your own, did you?" Wizzy chided.

David wanted to apologize. But his mind was still trying to piece it all together. Her next words stopped him.

"You're not one of us, David," she said. "Sy always knew that. You're… different. Sure you're lost, no family, cops on your tail, just like the rest of us. But you ain't no hustler. You learned quickly, but your heart ain't in it."

She sat up and crossed her legs. "You don't love the game. You gotta love the game if you're gonna make a living at it."

David rose to his knees. His head spun, but his sick feeling was diminishing.

"Do you love the game, Wizzy?" he said.

She was silent a moment, her face pensive. For the first time since he'd met her, David saw the image of a vulnerable child hiding behind her boyish, street-tough exterior. But it quickly disappeared.

"That don't matter no more," she said. "It's my life now. I sure didn't choose it."

"Where are you from," David asked. "How'd you wind up with the gang… with Sy?"

Wizzy stared at him, indecision in her face.

"That's not really safe to talk about," she said at last. "It would make Sy vulnerable if his enemies knew he cared about anyone."

David considered this answer. How would it make Sy vulnerable if people knew he cared about her? The thought played in his head for a minute. Then it came to him.

"Really?" David said. "He's your…"

"He's my boss," she interrupted. "And that's the way it will always be. Man like Sy can't afford for people to think he has blood around. Makes me a target."

David hummed an understanding. "So… is Nance your…?"

Wizzy laughed at that idea. "Nance? She can't stand me!" she said, laughing.

"Do you even know who your Mom is?" David asked.

"Do you?" Wizzy asked.

David was about to answer when a burst of electric static came from the elevator. Somebody was trying to call it down.

"Time to go!" Wizzy said, jumping to her feet.

David rose, painfully, and slipped Teddy back into the bag.

"There's enough newbucks in the bag to last you a few months," Wizzy said. "And there's a wig and a change of clothes."

"A wig?" David said.

"They'll be looking for a blond boy... right?" Wizzy said, rolling her eyes.

"Oh... a wig. Like... fake hair, right?" David said. Wizzy just gave him one of her _'you've got to be kidding me_' looks. Then she continued.

"Find someplace to change and then get the hell out of the city. Go out by the East Gate. Security is high there, but it's the busiest place. Easy to get lost in the crowd. If you can't find it, just follow the people headed away from the river. Find a ride. Get a cab. Take the ferry. Whatever."

She grabbed David by the collar, to impress on him that her next words were not to be taken lightly.

"Don't show your face around here again, Pork Chop. Never. Sy can't afford a war with Olmier. So if he thinks you're putting him in danger…"

She didn't finish the sentence. She didn't have to.

The elevator buzzed angrily. Whoever was down there would quickly start searching for another way up. Wizzy grabbed David by the shoulder and dragged him to the doorway that opened on a stairwell that wound down to the plaza.

David turned to her. In the light coming through the door,he could see the bruises he had put on her face.

"Wizzy, I'm so sorry for hitting you," he said. "I don't know how to tell you what I'm feeling. It's all so jumbled. But tell Sy that I… that I..."

The girl stopped him by placing her lips firmly against his. The sensation of her kiss shocked David. But it was over before he was even sure it was happening.

"You're such a dork, Pork Chop" she said, tears forming in her eyes. "Now get out of here, before I have to kick your stupid butt again!"

She slammed the door before he had a chance to say any more. David turned, and ran down the flight of unlit stairs. When he got to the bottom he had to crawl over a chain barrier bearing the sign, '_Off Limits_'. A few people stared suspiciously as he came out of the restricted zone; perhaps wondering if he was an illegal, or a robot… and whether he was for sale either way. But David disappeared into the crowd before anyone had a chance to ask.

He looked back as he moved along with the throng, and saw a lonely little face staring down from the dark windows of an unlit passageway on the side of an old building.

He started to wave, but he knew she would not be able to pick him out of the crowd.

"Bye, Wiz Kid" he said.

A bittersweet emotion was in his heart. He was free. That's what he had wanted. But part of him had become attached to the gang. They were bad. They were thieves. They were dangerous. But they were also his friends.

Life was complicated.

Once again, there was no time for emotions. He had to get out of Rouge City. Once Olmier knew he was gone, the search would start. But he had to make a quick visit first.

He stopped in a corner of two buildings, away from the crowd, and yanked Teddy from the bag. He turned the Supertoy and on and waited as it booted to life. The bear finally snapped into consciousness and surveyed its surrounding. Then its gaze locked on David.

"Hello, David," Teddy said in its gruff, lovable voice.

"Hello Teddy," he said, resisting the urge to hug the cuddly toy. He felt like he was too old for that anymore. But maybe later... when no one was looking.

"Are you ok?" Teddy said. "You look like you've been fighting," it scolded. "You should know better than that, David. Fighting is not safe."

"No time for all that, Teddy," David said, laughing. "You've got to help me find Dr know."

_(cont...)_


	16. Chapter 16

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress**

**by Bryan Harrison**

**Part 16**

**1**

David realized that he had never really been in Rouge City before. Yes, he had seen it, had even navigated its wild corridors. He'd heard its incessant festive voice; mingled with its hungry customers and conversed with its sly digital oracle.

But had he really experienced it? Had he even been capable?

As he rushed away from the area where he knew the gang would be working the crowd, Teddy clinging to his back, David had another revelation about his new body: It was part of this world; integral; tuned to it in a way his other one had never been; could _never_ have been.

He had not noticed this before. He had assumed this mysterious sensation had as much to do with the strange new environments he'd lived in so far, as with his rebirth. But this was the first time he had been in a place he known in his other life. … or at least had thought he'd known. He'd expected it would be familiar. It was not.

It was the same place, yes, and he saw many things he knew the shapes of. But they were new to him. Or rather, he saw them with new eyes.

Living eyes.

He slowed as he made his way through the bustling, inebriated throng, to gaze up at the glittering towers, heavily laden with marquees, and floating signs bearing an assortment of scantly clad characters that beckoned with lascivious smiles. There was meaning in those looks, in those words; meaning that would never have made sense in his old form.

But now, even as young as he was, the implication of the environment; the _meaning _of it, was something he understood.

Smells, that had once been only data; muted suggestions about something's olfactory characteristics, now assaulted his senses with intense and distracting messages. It was everywhere.

Food. Perfume. Sweat. Smoke. The bitter aroma of beer and the similar smell of people who had drank too much of it. The subtle, indescribable odors most Orga had gotten used to, but that were new to him. All of it was part of this place…. and now a part of his experience.

He felt the hard cement beneath his shoes; and, against his face, the sifting temperatures of the air currents that flowed from the river, carrying even more scents from the waters and the marshes that lay across it. All of it told a story about this place.

And the music! The constant heartbeat of the city. It was everywhere; more than sound now; more than a rhythmic oscillation against his aural devices. It was an exciting, enticing thing. It beckoned his body, made his blood flow faster; spoke in a language his flesh seemed to understand and made him want to move in time with.

And he found that he was. Unconsciously he had begun walking in time with the beat. It felt good. It felt …_fun!_

David laughed and began bobbing his body up and down as he walked. Was this dancing? Joe's explanation of his strange moves came back to him.

"_It's just what I do."_

It made sense now. That's the only reason anyone does it.

"It's just what they do!" he said aloud, laughing.

He ignored the strange looks he was getting from passersby. They had their own business to attend to. In minutes he would be no more than a vague memory to them, a silly boy who'd been talking to himself. They wouldn't even be able to describe him if anyone should ask.

No wonder Joe had loved it here. He understood now, how his departed friend had been part of this place; had belonged here! They way they all belong here.

David laughed again. It was a free and fearless sound. He was really here this time. _Here _for the first time. It was the first time he had felt this good since he'd been…. alive?

Yes alive!

"I'm alive!" he yelled, laughing and skipping in time with the music._ "Aliiiive_!"

Someone caught him by the shoulder and David whipped around, ready to fight for his life.

"Yeah, kid! Me too!" said the heavy-set, grizzled looking man who had grabbed him. He was wobbling and laughing, holding a bottle of some sweet smelling liquor. "Alive! Woo hoo!" the man bellowed as he tottered away, headed for a nearby building that was shaped like woman's high heel shoe.

Teddy grumbled at the retreating drunk. "Are you OK, David?" the bear asked.

Suddenly aware of laughter and scrutinizing eyes, David placed an embarrassed hand over his face. He had gotten carried away with his new sense of freedom.

No more yelling, he decided. And definitely no more skipping.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said to Teddy, and began making his way towards a brightly lit info kiosk in the center of a nearby cul-de-sac of glass store fronts.

Teddy gazed around the busy plaza and made a cluck of disapproval.

"This is not a nice place, David," the bear said.

"No, it's not" David conceded, knowing Teddy would never experience the world the way he now could. "It's just that…. it's all so different now.

"But we won't be here long," he assured the protective toy. "We just have to get some information from Doctor-"

David lost his train of thought.

A face had suddenly come into view. It stopped him in his tracks, left him without words.

Of course he would see that face in this place, this market. He should have been expected it. But he was surprised by the sight; unprepared for the sudden, conflicting emotions it provoked.

He was in danger territory. He should continue on his journey; he knew that. But he was drawn to the figure by a force that operated beneath his conscious will.

Like a moth to the flame, he had no choice in the matter.

**2**

The boy in the display window was smiling and waving at passersby. He wore a cap of bright yellow, and carried a shining metal bat over his shoulder. He was dressed in a uniform that David had seen before, in Martin's closet. But David had never seen Martin wear it and didn't know what game it was for.

The words '_David'_ and the number '_7_' were emblazoned on the toy boy's shirt. He stood in the midst of the holographic display of a large grassy field. A golden sun burnt at the top of the window, and distant trees wafted in a lazy summer breeze. The display seemed to go on to an endless horizon. But that was just an illusion. It was all just an illusion. The 'field' was only a 8 feet long. The boy was just a doll.

David stepped slowly towards the display, intense feelings of curiosity and melancholy pulling him on.

Had he really been this… thing?

People walked by, uninterested in the toy child. It smiled, laughed and beckoned them. It's voice amplified by a speaker atop the display. Its programmed banter was designed to illicit interest in its siblings, which were probably lined up inside the store, asleep in their boxes until some lonely soul took them home, awoke their digital heart. And then broke it.

"Hey, little brother," David whispered to himself. It was a mournful, adult sound; that of someone who witnesses an injustice he is powerless to stop.

"Hi! I'm David, " Little Brother said to a passing man. "Let's play some ball!"

The Mecha turned and tossed a ball into the air. Swung the bat. The fake ball flew off into the fake distance and the fake boy turned and raised a triumphant fist.

"Home run!" it said.

But the man had walked away. No one else was watching.

David cupped his hand over his mouth to stop an involuntary cry. Why was this hurting so? He was not one of them anymore. He was real now. They weren't. So why….

"Do you want to play?" the Mecha called to a passing couple. "I'm a good, kid! Take me home!" he said to another.

They were not interested. They had come for other delights. None but the most troubled of them would seek that kind of comfort here.

"Hey, watch this!" the toy boy said, and then executed a smooth somersault, landing upright with a victorious smile.

Fake boy, pretending to play in fake grass, selling fake love.

"Pretty good, huh? Take me home and see what else I can do!" it said.

David knew it was just a program. Little Brother had no idea what he was doing, what he was saying. He approached the display, feeling something rising in him with each step. He did not know this emotion. Had any living thing ever felt this way?

Did perhaps the butterfly feel this upon the sight of its discarded cocoon?

Little Brother finally noticed David's approach. It initiated 'big smile'. This was supposed to be a sign of 'friendliness', of 'welcome'. But David saw only the horrific and inhumane product of a lonely man's megalomania.

"Hi, I'm David," Little Brother said, stepping to the glass to greet David. "What's your name!"

David only stared.

"Wow! Nice bear. Is he yours?" Little Brother said.

"Hello, David," Teddy said, with some confusion. "I'm Teddy."

David tried to say something, but the words would not come. He reached out and placed a hand gently against the window. Little Brother observed this and took a moment to decide on an appropriate response. It finally set the bat down and placed its hand against the window too.

What seemed to be only a pane of glass between their hands, was really an entire universe.

"Is it a game?" Little Brother asked, a programmed look of anticipation on its face.

Tears suddenly clouded David's vision. He did not know their source and was powerless to stop them. What had happened to his feeling of freedom? His dancing feet?

"No," David said at last. "No, it's not a game, little brother. But they don't know that. And they don't care."

Ghost voices came into his mind, phantoms from another life.

"_They hate us David, the humans. They'll stop at nothing."_

"_My Mommy doesn't hate me… because I'm special… unique. Because there's never been anyone like me."_

Echoes of lost innocence.

The world was a grey place again. He should never have stopped here.

Little Brother had its head cocked to the side, still trying to interpret the meaning of David's words. Then it suddenly shifted it focus to a point over David's shoulder.

"Hi! I'm David," it said.

There was someone there; someone behind David.

**3**

The full force of David's predicament came back to him. He cursed himself for getting sidetracked. What had he been thinking? This could be one of Olmier's men. Or a cop.

He turned his head slightly, trying not to let the stranger see his face. In his peripheral vision he saw a young dark haired man in a colorful outfit. He was holding a bottle, and tottering a bit, as if intoxicated. But his head kept shifting back and forth between David and his Mecha twin in the window.

The man moved forward, to get a better look. David turned his head, but too late. The stranger had verified what he suspected.

"Now that is weird," the man said with a drunken lilt in his voice. "You look just like it… or it looks just like you. Whatever."

The man stepped closer. David sided away.

"That is soooo weird!" the stranger said, again, slurring his words. He leaned closer, and David stepped back, repulsed by the smell of beer on the man's breath.

The man seemed unsure what he was seeing."Are you… are you…" he stammered, confused. Then he reached out and pinched David's cheek. Hard.

"Ow! Bug off!" David yelled, batting the man's hand away and raising his fists defensively.

But instead of getting angry, the man broke into a huge grin.

"Whoa," he said. "You're a kid! You're really a kid!" Then he turned and called out.

"Hey, Serge! Ali! Get over here. You gotta see this!"

Time to go. David began stepping away quickly.

"Bye," Little Brother said, waving. David didn't return the salutation.

The stranger heard the toy and turned to see David rushing off

"Hey, kid! Wait," he called. "We ain't gonna hurt ya! Wait!"

But David was already around the corner. He broke into a run, hoping the man wouldn't see which way he headed. He could hear the man's warbling voice, calling out to his friends to come and see the weird kid who looked just like the doll in the window.

The kiosk was just ahead. The holographic face of a smiling woman hovered above the console, waiting for inquiries. David took Teddy off his back and was about to set him down when he heard voices over the bustle of the crowd.

"So where is he?" said someone.

"He ran this way," said a drunken voice he already knew.

"Damn," David muttered. He cupped Teddy under his arm and began walking away. But he quickly realized that his only exit was the way he'd come in. He began searching frantically for a place to hide, but he only saw the glass fronts of tourist traps and knick-knack shops filled with browsing Orga. A well-lit store was the last place he wanted to be.

Then a dark area came into his view, nestled between two stores. An alley! He rushed for it, hoping the men wouldn't notice his retreat. It was a narrow space, filled with large boxes stacked against the walls, and a larger container that smelled of some cloyingly sweet chemical, probably designed to hide more offensive odors. David ducked down behind it. He could wait here until his pursuers were gone. Then he could change into his disguise.

A voice came from near the mouth of the alley. "This better be real," it said.

"Chill, dude. You'll see," said the voice he already knew. "He looks just like one!"

David pressed hard against the wall. "Keep going - keep going … " he whispered.

Teddy was scanning the dark alley. He quickly decided it was not to his liking.

"This place is dirty," the bear complained, a bit too loudly.

David cupped his hand over the bear's mouth, a bit too late.

"Whoa. Did you hear that?" the annoying man said. "Hey! Kid! You in there?"

A string of curses intended for Teddy, came into David's mind. But he'd save them for later.

He noticed the outline of a door against the wall further down the ally. David tip-toed to it and searched madly for a handle, wishing again that he still had his old ability to see in the dark. But there was no handle! He whispered a word that Teddy would definitely not approve of, and cupped the bear's mouth, just in case it wanted to say so. What kind of door doesn't have a …

Sudden bright light blinded David as the door swung open. A woman was standing there, silhouetted in the florescent glow. Her back was to David.

"Alright I'm outta here," she called to someone inside. "Make sure you send the activity update before you close up. OK?"

There was no answer.

The woman tried louder. "I said make sure you-"

"I heard you the first time!" someone shouted, angrily.

"Then say so!" she shot back. She huffed and turned.

When she saw David, she froze.

The woman's face was shadowed by the light behind her, so David could not see her expression. But he could see the way her shoulders dropped, as if she had just received some bad news. And he could hear the frustrated sigh that came from her lips.

"Not this again," the woman said with a moan. She cupped her head in her hands for a moment, swearing under her breath. Then she reached out, grabbed David roughly by the shoulder and yanked him inside.

"Don't send anything yet!" she yelled. "Here comes another one!"

**4**

A quick scan of the room told David all he needed to know about where he was. He had just seen the place from the front, where he'd exchanged a few words with a doll standing in its display window.

Something stuck him strange about winding up in a place like this. It was funny, in an odd sort of way. David no longer had access to the dictionary that had been in his Mecha brain. But if he had, he might have decided the word 'ironic' would apply here.

His captors were leaning against a stack of empty boxes, arms crossed, staring silently with looks that suggested he was the last thing they'd wanted to see. They were dressed uniformly, in black seamless pants and bright blue, tight fitting shirts. The words "Ye Old Sim Shoppe" were printed in an antique font on their chest, along with tags bearing the names 'Dina' and 'Brent'.

The one named Brent was young, no more than a teenager. He'd rushed in hurriedly from another room, muttering something impatient under his breath. When he'd seen David, he'd pounded a fist against the wall. It was clear that he had thought his workday was over.

"Another dump," Brent said. "What are we up to now… four in six months?"

"Five," said Dina, the woman who had saved David from one awkward situation, only to place him right in the middle of another. She was a bit older than Brent; wore a hint of frosty liner over her eyes and multi-colored streaks in her hair. It was also clear that she was in charge.

Brent shook his head, a perplexed look on his face. "So, what's with the tan… and isn't the hair a bit long for this model?" he said.

Teddy was standing on the floor, gazing up at David as it waited to find out what would happen next.

"And the bear?" Brent said. "A toy with a toy?"

"It's obviously a custom," Dina said. She leaned forward and spoke slowly to David.

"What do they call you," she said.

David glanced back and forth between them as he assessed the situation. Why not tell the truth?

"Pork Chop," he said, trying not to smile at their reactions.

Brent guffawed. Dina slapped her forehead, an exasperated look on her face.

"Some people," she sighed. "And what's your Mommy's name?"

A thought occurred to David, that maybe this could be his way home. But he immediately abandoned that idea. Working scams had taught him to analyze the angles quickly. Even if they could find Monica, they'd probably contact her by phone. Martin or Henry were just as likely to answer as she.

"I don't remember," he said.

"They wiped it!" Brent yelled, pounding the wall again.

"Will you stop doing that?" Dina said.

Brent waved his arms in frustration "Why would you pay all that for a freaking custom, and then just dump it? Some people have too much money!"

"It's obviously a stolen child," Dina said. "They probably tried to hustle it off on the street, and couldn't get anything. It does look a little banged up."

David managed to keep from responding to this with his own critical observations about her.

Dina stood and let out a resigned sigh. "Well, let's plug it in, see what we can find inside that little head," she said.

Brent made a disgusted sound. "You know there's not gonna be anything left," he said. "And we're gonna be stuck here for hours cleaning it up, shutting it down and writing the report!"

He started to swing at the wall again, but stopped himself.

"We should just take it down to the marshes," he said, "dump it with the rest of the junk."

The look in Dina's eyes could have burned holes though steel.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," she said in a measured tone.

Brent bit his lip, stared at his feet. "Well, uh… I'm just sayin' that…" But he never finished what he was 'just sayin'.

Dina seemed satisfied by his response.

"I'm going to go boot up the stasis and start the report," she said. "You get butt your over there and check him for damage. And try not to initiate the DAS response this time! Kapeesh?'

"Yeah, yeah," Brent said.

The situation quickly escalated from awkward to uncomfortable when Brent pulled up a chair and began to run his fingers though David's hair.

"Uh, that won't be necessary," David said, abandoning his façade. But Brent didn't seem to notice David's change of tone.

"Don't be afraid," he said in a patronizing voice, as he felt around David face and neck. "Got to make sure Mommy and Daddy weren't punching you around. So be a good boy and we'll get you back home to Mommy soon. How that's sound?"

It sounded like a lie. David knew where he would really wind up, if he were still… one of them. He started to tell the fool, but became curious just how long it would take him to figure it out.

That's when Brent started unbuttoning David's shirt.

Ok, now it was getting too weird.

"Uh, I don't think so," David snapped, pushing Brent's hand away.

Brent lifted an eyebrow. "Oh. Looks like someone got themselves programmed with a little 'tude, eh? Mommy live in a bad neighborhood?" he said. "Well, we can work our way around that."

He placed his hand at the back of David's neck and began feeling around. David knew what the clerk was looking for. Didn't try to stop him. This would probably clear things up for him.

In a matter of seconds, Brent's face went though a series of dynamic changes.

Irritation first, at having to reset the defaults on somebody's custom brat.

Frustration, when he could not find the manual override button.

Confusion, when he finally realized that it wasn't there.

Apprehension, when he noticed the sardonic smile on David's lips.

Then, Realization, comprehension and fear, came in rapid-fire sequence as Brent pulled his hand away and jumped back, sending his chair flying across the room.

"Dina! Dina!" the clerk called frantically, backing away.

"What!" Dina screamed from another room.

"You-you better come see this," Brent said, sputtering. "I think we got a situation here!"

He slipped as he backed away, and fell, crashing into empty boxes and banging his head loudly against the wall.

"I told you stop doing that!" Dina said angrily as she rounded the corner. Then she saw her co-worker lying on the floor, pointing at David as if he'd found a ticking bomb implanted in the boys skull.

She drew the most obvious and incorrect solution.

"I told you to be careful!" Dina said as raced for a tool cabinet against the wall. She pulled a black object from one of the drawers and pointed it at David, pressed her thumb down.

David flinched at the beam of red light that shot into his eyes. But otherwise, it had no effect.

"Hey watch where you point that thing," he said, shielding his face and letting out a string of colorful expletives.

"David!" Teddy grumbled. "Be nice!"

The language took Dina by surprise. And the Sim-tazer had had no effect. She let her arm drop slowly, and then looked down on Brent.

"Did it go alert on you?" she said, confused.

Brent rose to his feet, his eyes wary on David.

"Uh, that's not really the situation," he said, stammering as he sought for the words to explain.

"It… uh, ya see, it's not an … I mean, _he_ is not an _it_," he said. "He's a he. Kapeesh?"

Dina slowly turned her head to stare at David in skeptical silence. Realization finally reached her face too.

"Oh, crap," she said.

Brent agreed.

"That is..." she paused, searching for the right word. "Weird." It was the best she could do at the moment.

Brent agreed again.

Dina started backing slowly out of the room. "Umm, Kid, you wait here, ok? I have to make a quick call," she said.

David knew she was going to report him; check if he might be a runaway or an illegal… or, considering his peculiar appearance, something worse.

"Ah, not such a good idea," he said, shaking his head. "Pulling me in here was pretty much an abduction. I mean, technically speaking, you kind'a kidnapped me. That might be a little awkward to explain. Ya think?"

The two were quiet a moment. Then they nodded in unison.

"I see your point," Dina said, legal ramifications racing through her head. "So, we should probably keep this… just between us?" she suggested.

David agreed.

He checked the clock on the wall. It had been about around 10 minutes or so. Time enough for his drunken pursuers to leave. It was a good time to keep his appointment with the Doctor. He buttoned his shirt. Slipped Wizzy's bag over his shoulder. Picked up Teddy from the floor. Then he executed 'big smile' for the two mystified employees of "Ye Old Sim Shoppe".

"Do you mind if I use your bathroom?" David said. "I need to change my clothes."

(cont...)


	17. Chapter 17

_I want to apologize for how long it took to post this episode, and thank everyone for still following my meandering tale. I am sure you all know how crazy things have been state side as of late. More importantly, I wish to express my deepest sympathy and send sincere prayers to the people of Japan and any of my readers who may live or have friends or loved one there. Whatever we in the US have been going through, it is dwarfed by comparison. We are all moved by your plight and your bravery and dignity in facing it. My next chapter will contain some form of honorable mention. - Bry_

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress**

**by Bryan Harrison**

**Part 17**

**1**

A wizened, smiling face hovered over the glass doors at the end of a cul de sac. David remembered it well. 'Ask Dr Know!' proclaimed the banner above the marquee's wild neon hair.

"There's nothing he doesn't," said David to himself.

But as he neared the entrance, a buzzer went off and the small translucent image of a smiling man in a plain black suit appeared to hover before the door.

"Welcome to Doctor Know," the floating man said, with exaggerated cheer, "Due to recent intrusions into our security, no Supertoys, servant Mecha or any information sharing devices will be permitted to see the Doctor. Global Telecom wants you to know we appreciate your patronage and we apologize for any inconvenience the new restrictions might cause."

"I don't think they like me, David," Teddy said. David sighed and looked around the cul de sac. It consisted of a few brightly lit eateries sparsely populated by young people, who were laughing and snapping pictures of one another with their pocket phones. But, just like the other place, there was a small alley on one side, with what looked to be trash receptacles gathered along the wall. He made sure no one was watching and slipped into the alley.

"But this is for garbage, David," Teddy observed as he was placed in one of the containers.

"Sorry, Teddy," David said. "But I can't take you inside. You'll be safe here for a little while."

The look on Teddy's face was equal parts outrage and disgust. "I am not junk!" the toy growled.

"I know, I know" David said apologetically. "But I don't know where else to leave you right now. I won't be long. Just wait here and try not to make any noise." He closed the lid and slipped away, ignoring the muffled complaints coming from the container, and preparing himself for a bout of wits with Doctor Know.

**2**

Another flash of deja'-vu washed over David as he mounted the small rise of stairs that led to the soft blue glow of the entrance. But it faded quickly as he passed into the quiet lobby. The Doctor's office had been updated since he'd last seen it.

He made his way through the warmly decorated lobby, scrutinizing the new appearance; plush sofas, walls of dark polished wood. Large paintings in ornate frames harkened back to a time long gone; a time when static, two-dimensional renderings were the height of artistic expression, and the written word was at the top of the information hierarchy. Shelves lined the walls, filled with antique books bearing names that, had he still possessed his digital databases, David might recognize. 'The Odyssey' by someone named Homer. 'Mind Children' by someone named Marovec. 'Stalking The Wild Pendulum' by Bentov. The Shah Nama, The Renaissance, The Gospel Of Thomas, The Lotus Sutra, The Art Of War, The Priciples Of Neo-Fatalism. A whole row was devoted to someone named Shakespeare.

So many books, David thought, amazed. The entire display ran the length of the room. And he was certain that this was just a tiny sampling of the stored knowledge of mankind. Because this was just a display…. a simulation, like he had once been; designed to evoke a certain response; to create an atmosphere of knowledge. Surely there must be places where much larger collections were kept.

Knowing that he didn't have much time, but unable to suppress the compulsion, David approached the shelves and ran his hand over the large leather-bound volumes. So this was how they did it, he realized. This is how Orga stored their information and their stories when they got too profuse to keep in their heads; how they passed them down from generation to generation before they had created thinking machines.

"It's a database," he whispered, suddenly understanding the meaning of the display. Joe had once said something about the value of information. This is where he had come from, wasn't it? Through the knowledge of millennia, the turbulent history of man's trials and errors, was his kind born…. or, the kind he had once been.

Now he knew why Orga treasured their ancient knowledge so. It was the blood of their civilization. The past. The future. It was…. power. Yes, power. Not the kind that men like Sy or Olmier used to get their way. Not the kind that had driven his mechanical body in another life. This was a more fundamental kind of power. Kinetic and intangible, yet the whole of civilization rested on its framework.

David was pondering these new revelations, trying to make sense of them, when the lobby door slid open and a small family entered, laughing, and sat on one of the sofas. He turned away quickly, avoiding a curious look from a young girl with them. His wig and anonymous suburban attire would supply sufficient cover for casual scrutiny. But he was not so sure about his eyes. He had seen so much in his short life, more than anyone his age should, that he was sure that his eyes would somehow reveal him. But when he chanced another glance, the girl had turned her attention elsewhere. He dashed by the family, and into one of the Doctor's quiet booths.

**3**

More than the lobby had been refurbished, it seemed. The Doctor himself had undergone a few upgrades since David had last spoken with him… with _it_? The computer no longer waited for patrons to press a button to go into its routine. The moment David sat, the lights dimmed and holographic galaxies exploded like a dazzling array of celestial fireworks as Dr Know made his entrance. But the new Doctor had legs and arms, was cloaked in a stark white lab coat, and embraced a large black book with the words "The Book Of Everything" etched in gold on its cover. The cartoon holograph paced the stage in a professorial posture as it went into its spiel

"Greetings my young friend!" the Doctor exclaimed, after taking a moment to calculate David's profile. "And welcome to Dr Know! The place where hungry minds are nourished at over seventy-five thousands locations around the world! You have questions? I have the answers. From Aristotle to Zeller! Zappa to Albeniz! ! History, Philosophy, Pop Culture and The Arts. All vetted by the most reliable sources! Everything you wanted to know about anything!

"Ask Dr Know! There's nothing I don't!"

David recalled the procedure and slipped some Newbucks into the slot, which was now located in the arm of the chair. The Doctor suddenly tossed the bulky Book Of Everything up into the air, and it began to flap around the room like a great bird, the multicolored holographs of the categories jumping from the pages to orbit David's head.

"10 Newbucks will buy you 5 questions!" The Doctor exclaimed, and began to recite the categories aloud. But David already knew where to find the information he sought.

"Flat Fact!" he said, interrupting the Doctor's spiel. The holograph snatched the flying book from the air, crossed its arms and began tapping a foot impatiently on the floor. After a moment David realized it was waiting for a question.

"Oh, uh… how can I find Monica…" David stopped, his mouth agape. Something obvious had finally dawned on him: He had never learned Mommy's last name! _His_ last name. Surely it must have been in the databank in his old brain! Then why couldn't he remember? He placed his head in his hands, moaning. But the Doctor saw the opportunity to waste one of his questions and jumped on it.

"In the Phone Registry!" the Doctor said. The Book Of Everything was suddenly bright yellow, its pages flipping wildly as if driven by a fierce wind. "The International Phone Registry, generously provided by Global Telecom Incorporated. The leading net provider offering a wide array of web services, not to mention a sponsor of yours truly: Dr Know! Next question?"

That was completely unfair! But David knew better than to complain. This was the Doctor's game, played by the Doctor's rules. He'd have to continue carefully, especially since he did not know a most crucial piece of information. Why hadn't he asked Martin when he had the chance? He moaned an indecipherable swear.

"Can you phrase that as a question, please?" The Doctor said. David was certain he heard sarcasm in the holograph's voice. Ok, he decided. You want to play it like that? He thought hard. After a minute's silence the Doctor started tapping it's foot on the floor again.

"Ok," David said, his new strategy decided. He spoke slowly, carefully, to avoid phrasing the words incorrectly. "How many people named… no! Start over."

The Doctor emitted a loud beep as it recalculated. David began again.

"How many times does the name 'Monica' appear in the phone registry?"

The Doctor didn't miss a beat. "Three hundred, sixty five thousand eight hundred and twenty four!" it exclaimed, seemingly excited by the inquiry. "Next question?"

So many? David felt himself sinking again. How on earth would he ever be able to find just one? But he quickly realized his mistake.

"Ok, how many times does the name Monica appear in the _local_ phone registry?" he said, hoping this might narrow the number a bit.

"Two Hundred and thirty three times," the Doctor said. Its wink let David know he was going in the right direction. But he was pretty sure he would have to pay for more questions… if the Doctor had its way.

"Next question," the Doctor said, smiling.

David thought for a moment, trying to concoct his next question while doing his best to ignore the tapping of the Doctor's foot against the floor. Then it suddenly occurred to him. The Doctor was a holograph! There was no reason for its foot to make a sound… which meant that someone had programmed the noise. David had the strong impression this was done just to distract people.

"Will you stop doing that," David said, annoyed. He immediately regretted saying it that way.

"No," the Doctor replied. "You have one more question."

"Hey! That wasn't…" but he stopped himself Technically, it had been a question. "Cheater," he mumbled. His time with the rough boys of the forest must have had an effect on him, for he had to fight a strong impulse to rush onto the stage and punch the holograph in its translucent nose. But he managed to put the feeling aside long enough to figure the next question. He proceeded carefully.

"And how many of … the people named Monica… in the local phone registry… have a husband named Henry, and a son named Martin?"

"None!" The Doctor replied happily. The categories disappeared and the holograph began to fold in on itself, saying, "Thank you for visiting Doctor Know! Come again!"

David quickly slipped another ten spot into the slot and the Doctor reappeared, throwing the Book of Everything into the air.

"Flat fact!" David screamed before the categories could jump from the pages. The Doctor retrieved the book, crossed its arms and began tapping its foot again.

"Stop that!" David commanded. He was amazed to see the Doctor comply. Had it been that easy all along?

"That's better!" David yelled, still fuming.

"There's no need to shout," the Doctor replied with an irritated expression on its virtual face. "I can hear you fine!"

Five more questions. David had plenty of money, but couldn't afford to spend it all here. He still had a long way to go, and he was Orga now. He had to eat and take care of his body in a way he'd never had to before. He cleared his mind and tried to think differently. He wasn't a robot anymore. He could not rely on stored information or programmed strategies. He had to seek the elusive 'unknown unknown', as Sy would have called it.

Then it occurred to him; if he didn't know where Mommy lived, then how did he know she had a local address? He had only assumed it would be. But how local was local? It might take all night to have the doctor check every registry. But what if…

He knew what to do.

"Alright," David said finally, pointing a challenging finger at the Doctor. "How many people named Monica … in _any_ phone registry … have a husband named Henry, and a son named Martin … who is a teenager now… and was sick for five years?"

"One."

The reply was so quick that David almost missed it. He had been prepared to go through another round of questions, fighting to extract every vital piece of information. But now his anger subsided and was replaced by a new hope. He'd found her!

"And … what is her full name?" he said, reverently, feeling a sudden unexpected warmth of emotion rising in his chest.

The image of a young woman with a wry look on her face, but laughter in her eyes, appeared before him. It was her! David felt his heart swoon. His love for her came back like a punch in the gut and filled him with a deep feeling of bittersweet joy. He felt his heart beating faster and his breath suddenly rushing.

"Swinton, Monica Francis," the Doctor said. "Born Monica O'Conner, married to Henry Swinton, for whom she bore one son; Martin Thomas Swinton. Placed in Cryo-Suspension due to complications of Sinclair Syndrome. Resuscitated."

David repressed the urge to reach out and touch the image. This was likely all the Doctor had of her. She wasn't famous, a celebrity, or political figure. She was s simple mother, a solitary woman who took her joy from the simple things in life.

It was an old image. She was younger than the woman he knew. Much younger. It appeared to have been taken near the pool. She was seated in a patio chair, her arms crossed, as if she didn't really want her picture taken, but was putting up with it because of who was taking it… because she loved him. Had Henry taken it on some lazy afternoon after a walk by the pond? And what was the whimsical look in her eyes? Had they been joking? Making plans for their future? Had Martin yet been born?

She was so beautiful So happy. David felt a tear rising in his eye and wiped it away.

"Next question?" The Doctor said.

David came to his senses and pushed his strong feelings back. "Swin-ton," he said quietly,. What an odd name. "Hi, I'm David Swinton," he whispered, trying it on for size, greeting imaginary strangers, softly, so the Doctor couldn't make it out.

"You're mumbling!" the holograph complained.

But David was beyond fighting with the machine. His anger had given way to hope… and now, after hearing his true name, his hope gave way to something else; a feeling both sad and happy at once.

"And where does Monica Francis Swinton live?" he said.

Another loud beep filed the room.

"I'm sorry," the doctor replied, with a smile that didn't seem sorry at all. "But that information is not in the pubic records. You still have three more questions."

He was close. He knew her name. But if the Doctor didn't have her address, then the registry wouldn't either. A troubling thought came to him next. Maybe she didn't want to be found. What if, after their encounter, Martin had somehow convinced her to remove all their information from public records? Or what if Martin had told Henry about seeing him and…

"Henry!" David said aloud. Of course! Why hadn't he thought of it earlier?

"Please state that as a question!" The Doctor said, tapping its foot again. David quickly formulated his next plan of attack.

"Who is Henry Swinton, husband of Monica Swinton, father of Martin Swinton?"

The Book Of Everything was airborne again. This time it shot up to hover above the Doctor's head, where it quickly morphed into a screen. A man was pictured there. He stood at a podium, speaking to a room full of well-dressed people. David was all too familiar with that face.

"Henry S. Swinton," the Doctor explained. "Regional Head of Marketing for Cybertronics of New Jersey. Two time Recipient of Cybertronics Annual Award for Excellence in Promotion!"

The Doctor spoke on, reciting the information in Henry's public profile. But David didn't care about Henry's accomplishments. He only wanted to know how to find the man… and through him… to find Mommy. The people on the silent screen began to applaud as another man stepped into the picture. David lost his breath and fell back into his seat. He knew that face too. He would never forget it; _could_ never forget, no matter how hard he tried.

Alan Hobby, his creator, his betrayer, stepped up to the podium and shook hands with Henry. There they stood. The two men that had sought to destroy him. David felt the crimson emotion rising again, in his chest and stomach. There was a fire in there. This emotion also made his heart race and his breath come fast and shallow. It too drove his quest… almost as much as his love for Her. It was the dangerous emotion that lurked on the dark side of love. It was the nemesis of love.

Holding up a plaque between them, the two men smiled as pictures were taken and the silently applauding people stood to show their respect. Now he knew what he had to do to find Monica; knew where he had to go to get hold of the information that was unavailable anywhere in the public domain.

"Where the lions weep," he whispered.

The Doctor heard the words and, once again, began to answer a question that had not been asked. "The Watson Fountains," it said, "A monument constructed in the likenesses of twin lions, built over the submerged ruins of Old Manhatten Island and commonly used as a geographical reference for that location."

The hologram continued its explanation, but David wasn't listening; didn't care that the computer had stolen another question from him. He knew where the lions wept. He had no idea how he was going to get there… but that had not stopped him before.

He rose and turned to leave.

"You have one more question!" The Doctor reminded him.

David faced the hologram. He really had nothing left to ask. But there was something he wanted to say.

"Ok, Doctor," he said, in measured tones. "Tell me this…. who is David Swinton, son of Monica Swinton?" he said.

The Doctor took a moment to scour the public record. It was only an instant, but David remembered how it had seemed before, when he too was only a replica. Time had not passed in the same way.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said at last, "but no such person exists."

David cupped his mouth and mimicked the loud beeping sound the doctor used to point out a mistake.

"Wrong!" he said. "Put this in your Book Of Everything, Doc. _I_ am David Swinton, son of Monica Swinton, brother to Martin Swinton. I have a father too, though he doesn't want me. But what he wants doesn't matter anymore because I am real! And I have a family …and a home! And that's where I am going!"

He suddenly rushed towards the Doctor and it stepped back, surprised by the boy's unexpected and inexplicable aggression.

But David stopped at the foot of the small stage and pounded a resolute fist against his chest; over his young Orga heart, wherein the dual spirits of love and hate were at war for his soul.

"_I am!"_ he cried.

_(cont…)_


	18. Chapter 18

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress**

**by Bryan Harrison**

**Part 18**

**1**

The night was cool against David's skin. He stopped at the doorway to let the breeze flow over him, cooling him. Calming him. It was a sweet sensation, something he could have never experienced in his former life. He hadn't even been aware how hot it was inside until he'd rushed through the lobby, past the curious gazes of the family on the sofa, and into the open air. But after taking a few deep breaths, to slow his beating heart, he understood something: it had not been hot inside. It was he who was hot. It was the flame in his chest, burning brightly now, fueled by the sight of Her. And the sight of his enemies.

Time to go.

He dashed down the stairs and into the alley where he had stashed Teddy in a trash receptacle. The toy bear would surely be upset with him, but he would get over it. If having to hide in a trashcan was the worst thing this Teddy had to put up with… then he'd have a much easier life than the original.

"Teddy! I'm back," David said popping the lid on the improvised hiding spot.

But Teddy wasn't there.

For one horrible moment, David thought that the cleaners had come to empty the trash, and taken his friend. But then he saw the loose piles of discarded junk in the opposite corner of the container. Teddy must have done that, he realized, trying to keep the offensive material away.

David reached down and sifted through the scraps, hoping that maybe the bear was hiding in it. But there was only paper scraps, empty drink bottles and gift boxes.

"Not good," he moaned. On reflection, it wasn't the greatest hiding place, but what else could he have done? Anyway, there was no time for self-recrimination. If the garbage people had not taken Teddy, then someone else had. He had to find out whom, and to where. It was late and he had a long way to go. He still had no idea how to make the journey across the water to The End Of The World.

And the longer he stayed in Rouge City, the more he risked being found by Olmier's people.

A sound came from across the cul de sac. Laughter. David turned to see some of the teenagers still sitting outside the eatery, joking and teasing one another. Their table was piled with empty food wrappers, scraps of half-eaten meals and plastic cups.

Had they seen him hide Teddy? Had they come and taken him while he was gone? He made his way to find out what they knew.

**2**

"Looks like someone's up past his bed time."

The boy who spoke was leaning against one of the plastic tables, looking at David with an air of casual amusement. Another boy stood beside him, sipping loudly on a transparent cup that seemed to only have ice left in it.

"Yeah, kid. Ain't you a little little to be out here?" the other boy said. They both laughed at this, a bit too hard, in David's opinion. It wasn't that funny.

They looked to be about Martin's age, 16 or 17 years as far as David could tell. They sported closely cropped hair, telephonic plugs in one ear and, like the rest of the teenagers gathered around, they were dressed in colorful, expensive looking clothing. David ignored the tease and glanced at the girls sitting at the table. They had long multi-colored hairdos, and were typing messages into their pocket phones, or engaged in conversations with other kids on the little screens.

"So, kid," the first boy said, "you lost or what?"

"Yeah," said the other, snickering, "Think mommy's gonna be little mad if she finds you hanging around the fun zones?"

David decided not to beat around the bush. There wasn't time.

"Have you seen my Teddy?" he said, knowing the likely reaction. As he expected, the boys glanced at each other and began to snicker.

"Have you seen his teddy bear, dude?" said the first. They both laughed too hard again.

One of the girls looked up at David and smiled. "Hey cutie pie!" she said. "What're are you doin out here all alone." But her concern was short lived for she went right back to the conversation she'd been having with someone on the screen of her phone.

"I left a Supertoy toy in that container," David said seriously, pointing towards the alley behind him. "Did any of you see it get out? Or maybe see someone take it?"

A bored looking girl with bright blues streaks in her long hair, noticed the conversation and chimed in. "Oh yeah, the teddy bear. I think Styles took it," she said, pointing at the first boy without looking up from her phone. "He's got this thing for cute little toys. Probably because nothing living will touch him."

The boy named Styles raised his hand at the girl and flashed a gesture that David had become familiar with in his time with the gang.

"This one's for you, Claire," he said.

"No thanks," the girl replied, still not looking up. "Don't know where it's been."

"Did you take it, Styles" David said. Something in his flat tone must have struck the teenager wrong. He stopped laughing, crossed his arms, and fixed David with a challenging look.

"Well, maybe I did, brat," Styles replied. "Maybe I took it and … oh, I don't know, threw it into the river or something?"

The other boy laughed.

David didn't.

"Why would you do something like that?" he asked, sizing the boy up. His time with Sy's crew had taught him how to read people, how too see through their façades.

Styles shrugged, an arrogant smirk on his face.

"Well, because, maybe I figured any kid who thinks he's old enough to wander around Rouge in the middle of the night, talking crap to complete strangers, is probably too old to be playing with little…"

He never had a chance to finish his reply.

The ensuing series of events surprised David as much as any of the kids who witnessed them. Everything seemed to pass in slow motion. It was as if someone else had taken over his body and he was only a passenger along for the crazy ride.

He felt himself jump forward, saw Styles' arrogant expression change to shock, saw the boy uncross his arms to try and grab his small assailant, and then saw his mouth form into an oval cry of pain as David stomped down hard on his instep.

He had learned a lot from the wild boys. Now he had a chance to put it to use.

The other boy reached out for David as Styles buckled over, reacting to the pain searing up his leg. But David side-stepped his grasp and took hold of Styles' hand, twisting his forearm so it was locked around Styles', then prying the larger boy's thumb back, locking it in a hold that drove the him to his knees.

Time reasserted itself. The girls at the table had forgotten their phone calls, their eyes bulging in disbelief over their gaping mouths. None of them looked bored anymore. The one called Claire guffawed and raised her phone to record what was happening.

"Back off, or I break it!" David yelled as the other boy tried to pull him off. The boy started to swing a fist, but David twisted Styles' hand the way Wizzy had shown him.

Styles screamed out.

"I'll break it!" David yelled again. The other boy finally stepped away, his face twisted and uncertain. He'd been convinced.

David had Styles trapped in a thumb lock, on his knees, pressed against the table. The older boy swore and tried to shift his weight, but David twisted his hand painfully, and he eventually gave up.

Wizzy called the move 'the great equalizer'. _"When your opponent has the advantage of size, Pork Chop,"_ she had explained_, "you have to go for his vulnerabilities."_ Then she had demonstrated the move on David's own thumb. He'd never forget the pain. Styles probably wouldn't either.

Now all the girls at the table had noticed the confrontation.

"On no he didn't!" laughed one. "Are you seeing this?" said another, holding up her phone. A faint "_O-M-G_!" came from it.

"Do I have your attention now?" David said into the boy's ear. Styles nodded his head, hissing though clenched teeth.

"Oh, this is soooo cute," laughed Claire. "Smile!" She said and all the girls' phones began flashing as they captured the special moment for posterity.

David smiled for a couple shots and then turned his attention back to Styles.

"Now, let's try this again," he said, in calm voice. "Where is my Teddy?"

**3**

"Scrappers?"

David repeated the word aloud as he ran past the closed storefronts of the 'family friendly' part of the city, headed for to the waterfront. He was following the directions Styles had given him to find Teddy. The boy had had finally admitted seeing a dark clad figure in the alley, while David had been with Dr Know. He said the person had been rummaging though the garbage.

"They'll be headed for the docks," the boy had said, his voice twisted in pain and humiliation. "Probably scrappers."

David didn't know what a 'scrapper' was and didn't want to hang around to ask.

He'd released the older boy's hand and backed away quickly, expecting to be pursued by the boy and his friend. But Styles had obviously had enough, and whatever his friend saw in David's eyes convinced him that he was not someone to tangle with. Styles had not even looked up when David let go. He'd cupped his swollen hand against his chest and sat heavily on the table, swearing under his breath.

The girls had laughed, and waved as David dashed off to find Teddy.

"See ya round, cutie!" the one named Claire had called.

David had stopped a few passersby, asking if they had seen anyone carrying a toy bear. But all he got in return was laughter and a few pinches on his cheeks.

Then he saw a barricaded door that Styles had mentioned. He made his way though the broken fence that led to the passageways Styles said the scrappers used to get down to the old docks. Once through he found himself descending a long flight of stairs that led into an older, darker part of Rouge City.

Like the hall he and Wizzy had used, the lights were dim, too dim; and the steps were wet and slick. The paint on the cement wall had flaked, and the whole place stank of fish and salt water. Little piles of trash had accumulated on the steps sp he had to be careful to not slip.

Then a thought slowed David's descent. What if the boy had lied to him? What if Styles had sent him on some fool's quest? Or what if this place was dangerous… some kind of trap? He had no idea who could be lurking down there? Or what!

David stopped and caught his breath. Cleared his mind. He slowly cast off the rage that had driven him into attack mode. Time to think this through. He knew he had to get out of Rouge before Olmier found out he was missing and started searching for him. He had no idea where Teddy was; he could be here all night looking for the Supertoy.

It was time to ask the tough question.

Did he really need Teddy?

Just the thought seemed like betrayal…because, he admitted to himself, it was. But looking into the rank darkness below, an immediate answer came. It wasn't the one he liked, but it was the most practical.

He could carry on without the toy. He knew Mommy's name. Knew where he had to go to find her. He had his own true identity now.

And there were other considerations.

If these scrappers were the kind of people David assumed, then they wouldn't be as easy to take as a poser like Styles. They would have lived the hard life, like he had with the gang, and would be made of sterner stuff. They'd never fall for a simple trick like a thumb lock. So even if he did find them, how would he get Teddy back?

And there was surely no way he could report it to the police.

Feeling shame and defeat wash over him, David turned and started slowly up the stairs. He would find a tram to the shore and then work his way to The End Of The World. It was the safest course of action.

"Sorry Teddy," he whispered, as he ascended, hoping that maybe Styles was wrong, or had been lying, after all. Maybe Teddy was somewhere above. Maybe he looking for David.

Something clanged near the top of the staircase. David looked up to see the doorway open and saw four figures silhouetted in the faint glow of the bulb.

"That's him!" someone shouted. Then they began to descend.

David knew that voice. Styles you devious jerk, he thought.

Change of plan! David turned and started down the slick stairs, moving as fast as his feet would take him.

**4**

His experience with Sy's crew was coming in handy again. Wandering the trails of the forest, practicing the scams til all hours of the night, having to stay on his feet for hours, occasionally having to flee when things went wrong; all of it had fine tuned David's mind. Not only was he outrunning his pursuers, but he also noticed a change in the staircase that they missed. He didn't see it as much as hear it.

The ceiling lamp had been broken, and only the only was from behind, making it hard for depth perception. So the place where the stairs leveled out appeared to be farther than it really was. But David noticed the echoes of his footfalls growing quicker and adjusted his footing just in time to keep from running into the wall ahead.

The stairwell went off to the right at that point and David could hear water rushing far below. Was that safety… or a trap? He had no way of knowing, and really had no choice. So he continued, hearing angry calls coming down the stairs behind him.

He was another two flights down, when he heard someone yell in pain. He looked back to see the dark figures thrashing about wildly. They had misjudged their footing and run straight into the wall! The thrill of the chase was rushing through his veins now, and he wanted to stop and taunt them. But he had no idea what lay below. Better to get down there fast, and find a path of escape.

They quickly resumed the chase and David could tell, by the sound of their calls, that they were really pissed now. He began jumping down two and three steps at a time. It was a dangerous strategy in the dark, but it was a dangerous situation.

The wall gave way to a large opened passageway that lay another flight down. Soon David could feel the fresh ocean breeze on his face, and see the white tips of waves frothing beyond the dock. But in his excitement he misjudged the last jump. The ground was closer than he'd thought.

A white-hot feeling flashed in his ankle and tore up his shin. He fell to his knees, grasping at his wounded leg. He had to bite down hard to keep from crying out. He could he the voices behind getting closer. Frantically he crawled ahead, seeking someplace to hide.

There were no lamps here, only the faint illumination from a thin crescent moon. Ahead David could barely make out indistinct shapes: boxes, or crates of some kind. Beyond them lay the swirling waters of the Delaware. He struggled ahead.

The darkness was suddenly broken by a bright beam of bright light, aimed directly into David's eyes.

"Well, look what the heck I found!" said a gruff, aged voice in a strange, halting accent.

**5**

Styles arrived moments later, sweaty and out of breath, He had three other boys trailing him. They weren't that big, but there were enough of them to handle a smaller boy…. or more likely to hold him down as Styles took his revenge.

Cowards were pretty predictable.

"I know you're out here you little turd!" Styles yelled, rubbing his hand, scanning the dock frantically. "When I find you, you're gonna be sorry. Real freekin sorry that you ever messed with-"

Then he saw David, standing in a gray shadow near a tower of empty crates. He stepped towards the boy, his chest puffed up triumphantly.

"Well, hello there punk. Let's see you try that little trick on me now!"

But Styles was caught off guard by the sight of David. He stopped, a confused expression on his face. David said nothing, only stared blankly back at him.

"You lost?" said a gruff voice.

Styles turned to see a dark shape emerge from behind another crate. The man snapped on a flashlight and pointed the beam into Style's eyes.

"Get that out of my face, man!" Styles said. The other boys backed away. None of them could see how big this guy was, and they had not bargained for a fair fight.

The man complied, turning the beam of light towards the ground. "What you boys doing down here?" he said.

Now they could see that he wasn't that big. He was dressed in a faded and threadbare plaid jacket, worn jeans and thick black rubbers. They got their confidence back.

"We're looking for a punk kid who… who stole something from me," Styles lied.

The man turned the light on David. The boy Styles saw in the beam looked a lot like the brat that had humiliated him in front of the girls. But that boy had black hair that hung to his neckline. This one had shorter, blonde hair, and was wrapped in a large black rain slick. And his eyes; they didn't seem to blink. They looked … vacant.

"Pretty sure this ain't him," the man said with a laugh. "This one belongs to me. Found it in the tunnels. Those guys from the Sim Shoppe dump the rejects down there all the time. Just to keep from doing the paperwork."

Then the man shot the beam of light into his own face. It was old and wrinkled, with thick gray whiskers against his strong Asian features.

"Ain't I the lucky one?" he said with laugh that held more challenge than humor.

Styles looked back and forth between David and the man.

"So, that's a machine?" he said.

"What're you, kid? An idiot?" the man grumbled. "'Course it's a machine. You guys been drinkin'? Poppin those little tranc pills?"

Styles glared uncertainly at David a moment more. Then he sighed.

"Hey, we know that little piece of garbage came down here!" he yelled, his frustration rising. "You had to see him!"

The man turned the flashlight off. By the time everyone's eyes readjusted, he was face to face with Styles. Surprised, the boy jumped back, his fists raised and ready. But the man didn't seem phased by the posture. A hint of humor came into his face.

"Come to think of it, I did see someone," the man said, thoughtfully. "Four dumb uptown softies who didn't know when it was time to call it off and get their butts back up to the plaza before something bad happened."

Perhaps it was the way the man had said it. Perhaps it was the dawning realization that this was the underbelly of the city, where people disappeared all the time. Whatever it was, Styles dropped his fists and began backing away. He loomed a moment longer, looking around to see if the kid was anywhere in sight. Then he swore, rubbed his swollen hand, and ran off to catch his friends, who were already hi-stepping for the stairs that led up to the controlled confines of Rouge City.

It was safe there. They could pretend to be tough without the risk of having to prove it.

**6**

David let out his breath and fell to his knees.

"Thanks for playing along, mister," he said.

"No. Thank _you_, kid," the man replied in a voice like gravel. "That was kind of fun. Just for the look on that softie's face. Man, he didn't know what to do!" He let out a deep hearty laugh. "Quick thinking on your part," he said.

David did his best to laugh, but it came out like a moan. He sat and started to remove the rain slick the man had let him use.

"No, you go ahead and keep that one," the man said. "No need to add a cold to your problems. I got plenty more at home, anyway."

The stranger who had saved David from a fight he was bound to lose, gazed up at the ambient glow of city light that shone over the fenced rim of the wall, high above them now. He seemed lost in thought for a moment.

"People up there live in a dream. A world without consequence. Don't know how to handle something real when they come face to face with it. Know what I mean?"

David tried to agree but could only grunt in pain.

The man looked down on him, and pounded a hand on his head, as if he'd forgotten something important. "Oh, what am I yakkin about? Let me see that leg!"

"You got to be more careful comin' down those old steps," he said as he inspected the ankle. "Nobody's supposed to use 'em, but security looks the other way. I guess they figure we're going to find a way in anyway, so at least they can keep track of us."

Something he did made David yelp in pain.

"Well, that's not good," he sighed. "You need a splint. Better come with me."

He touched David gently on the shoulder.

"First, tell me, you got anyone else looking for you," the man asked. "Parents? Police?"

David shook his head. Then he sighed an admission. "There could be some pretty dangerous people keeping an eye out for me," he admitted. He looked up, a plea in his face. He was going to have to trust this man. "I really need to get out of Rouge," he said.

The man nodded thoughtfully.

"Well, they'll have to be a lot more dangerous than those clowns to scare me," he said. "So, what do I call you?"

"My name is David."

"Ah! A kingly name!" The man said. "And I am Hiromatsu, David. Call me Hiro. It's easier."

David let himself be pulled up to his feet. But when he tried to stand, the fire in his ankle flared. He stifled another cry.

"Lean on me, David," Hiro said. "It's not far."

David let his weight rest against the stranger, hoping he could trust him. He really had no choice at this point.

"Oh!" the man said, pulling something out of his pocket. "You still need this?"

It was the black wig that Wizzy had given him for his disguise. Wouldn't do any good now. David shook his head.

Hiro placed the wig back in his pocket. "Well, I'm sure somebody will" he said.

**7**

The thumping music of Rouge City rode faint on the night, obscured by the sound of the rollicking waters. Without marquees and holograms obscuring the view, the sky was a creamy glow of sparkling stars and a thin crescent moon set against the black void.

David got absorbed in the sight, trying to keep his mind off the pain. Hiro led him slowly, past large empty transport crates where people had made makeshift homes. Weary eyes watched as the pair passed. Some of them closed the doors of their crates as they approached, apparently afraid of robbers. Small fires burnt inside a few of the crates; the faint aroma of food cooking was on the air. It didn't smell too appetizing, whatever it was.

"That's my place up there," Hiro said, nodding his head at point of light that was bobbing gently, as if afloat on the restless waters. It didn't seem that far, as well as David could tell in the darkness. But they had to stop occasionally, to rest his swollen ankle.

"So, you really steal from those kids?" Hiro said.

"Not exactly," David replied. But he didn't feel like explaining. He really didn't feel like talking at all.

"Well, it's none of my business anyway," Hiro said. "Being a scrapper, I guess I ain't one to judge. Just don't try stealing from me and we'll get along fine."

"You're a scrapper?"

Hiro laughed again. But it wasn't a mocking sound. "Who else do you think you'd find down here, David?"

"Did you happen to…" David stopped himself, realizing it might be better to put off a confrontation about that subject. He was hurt, vulnerable. And this man had just saved him.

"Did I what?" Hiro said.

"I mean… I don't really know what a scrapper is."

"Well, what's it sound like?' Hiro said "We collect the scraps the uptowners throw away. Places like Rouge are filled with little treasures I can fix or sell for their parts elsewhere. You'd be surprised what people think is worthless."

David hummed a reply. Actually he wouldn't be that surprised. Some people thought their own kids were worthless.

"You read?" Hiro said.

The question took David by surprise. "I can," he replied, remembering the book display in Dr Know's lounge. "I'd like to read more."

"That's good, that's good." Hiro said. He donned that thoughtful expression again and his gaze wandered to the stars. "People don't read enough. Especially history. They treat it like all the other stuff they throw away without understanding its value."

David didn't know how to respond. This man seemed pretty thoughtful for a scrap collector.

"There was a man named Stuart Chase," Hiro continued. "He wrote a lot of books a long, long time ago; before the oceans rose, long before new cities were built on top of the old ones; the ones that were swallowed up by the rising oceans." He was quiet a moment, seeming to be lost in dark memories.

"The graves of drowned cities" he said, his face grim. Then he seemed to come back to himself.

"Well anyway," he said, "this man, Chase, once wrote '_The story of the development of life and industry in America is the most amazing tale of the waste of wealth by a careless, improvident people, that the world has ever known_."

David was quiet, not sure where this conversation was going.

Hiro smiled as if to a private joke. "Took me a while to memorize that one," he said.

David nodded, thoughtfully. "Not really sure what 'improvident' means," he said.

The man's laughter was gruff and heartfelt. After a minute David found himself laughing along with him, even though he wasn't sure of the joke.

"Well here we are!" Hiro said.

The light had indeed been bouncing on the waves. It was shining from the window of a large craft moored to a thick bollard that protruded from the edge of the dock. The bone white surface of its hull reflected the scant light of the moon. Its empty masts rose high above the deck.

"You live on a boat?" David said, relieved that he hadn't been brought to one of those dirty crates.

"Technically it's a cutter," Hiro explained. "But I like to call it my Junk." He laughed, looking at David with expectation in his eyes.

David shrugged.

"A _scrapper _who lives on a _Junk_?" Hiro said. "Get it?"

"Umm… not really," David admitted.

"A Junk! Large boat used during the Han Dynasty?"

Now David was really confused.

Hiro sighed. "Well, it doesn't work anyway. Junks were Chinese and I'm from Japan. But still pretty funny joke, eh?"

"Sure," David said, doing his best to sound amused. "Funny."

A shrill cry broke through the night. "Who is there?"

It was a woman's voice, coming from the center of the boat. David could make out a small figure near the large mast. Though he couldn't really make out the object she had braced against her shoulder, he was pretty sure he could guess what it was.

"That's Chiyoko!" Hiro explained to David. "My beautiful wife!" Then he yelled some words in a language that David did not understand, grasped the boy up and carried him onboard.

"We have a visitor, my angel! My love!" Hiro said as he set David down carefully on a pile of thick duffle bags. "His name is David," Hiro explained.

David was right. She'd had a gun. It was big, too. He was glad she'd set it down because she didn't look too happy to have him onboard.

"Hi," he said cautiously, giving her the best smile he could muster in his pain.

Chiyoko repeated his name slowly, "Daaa-vid," like it was some exotic sound she wasn't sure how to pronounce.

She was a small woman, cloaked in the same type of dark rain slick Hiro had worn. Her hair was long strands of black and silver. Her back was bent from age; her features, creased from a long, hard life in the underbelly of the world. And her mouth seemed to be set into a perpetual frown.

But when David looked into her eyes, he saw the same light humor that he heard in Hiro's gravelly laughter.

The woman's jaw worked as she inspected David, like she was chewing something that didn't taste too good. Then she spoke a rapid series of words that David didn't understand. This must have been Japanese. Once again, David regretted not having access to his digital brain.

Hiro laughed again. "She thinks you're a toy!" he explained. "Says she's seen pictures of something that looks like you."

"Yeah, I get that sometimes," David said with a nervous laugh. This was definitely a conversation that could wait for another time.

"Trust me, my love, he's not a toy," Hiro said to Chiyoko. "And you don't have to be rude. Speak English for our guest."

Chiyoko rolled her eyes as if Hiro had given away a trick of hers. Then she fixed David with a hard stare.

"You're running from something, boy," she said in slow, accented English. Something about her gaze let David know it would not be a good idea to lie. This was a test of some sort.

"Yes," David admitted. "Gangsters and…" he shrugged apologetically at Hiro. ".. and some men who work for the government. I don't know who they are… or why they want me. I've committed no crime."

Hiro didn't seem surprised or concerned that David had left out the part of the government men. Chiyoko was quiet, her jaws working as she took this in.

"Where are you running to, David?" Chiyoko said.

David took in a deep breath. He was sure they would have nothing more to do with him after telling them. But he didn't want to lie any more. Not to these people.

"I have to go to where the lions weep," he said.

Hiro just laughed. "Manhattan?" he said. "Why didn't you say that before? We pass that way all the time!"

"Really?" David said, his excitement renewed.

"Sure," Hiro said. "You wouldn't believe all the stuff that big Mecha company throws away!"

You might be surprised, thought David.

"Can I come with you?" he said. "I can take care of myself." He reached into his pocket and extracted his roll of Newbucks. "I can even pay you!"

Hiro waved the money off. "Not the issue. It's really up to my queen. Onboard, she's the boss," he said.

David set expectant eyes on the old woman. She gazed back, frowning. Her face was even more grimaced than before. After a skeptical moment she clucked her tongue, and started down into the large cabin of the boat. But she stopped and turned to say something in Japanese. The only word David could make out was his name. When she was through with her decision, she went inside and closed the door behind her.

"Well?" David asked Hiro.

Hiro shrugged to let David know it was out of his control. "She says you're a strange, skinny boy who is probably up to no good. She also says you smell funny. Need to bathe. She doesn't understand why you look like a toy and thinks maybe you are not telling us the whole truth.

"But, then again, she says you can tag along if you want."

If not for his ankle, David would have jumped for joy. He whooped instead, and clapped his hands loudly. "Yes!"

Hiro shushed him. "We have to make some other stops first. So it'll be at least a week before we hit Manhattan. But that'll give you time to heal, eh?

"Great!" David said.

Hiro leaned over and ruffled the boy's hair.

"It'll be good to have you along, David," he said. "Good for her, too." There was something new in the man's eyes, just for a moment. Something sad. Then he hit himself on the head again.

"Oh! Almost forgot," he said. "She also says, if you can figure out how to keep the damn thing quiet, you can have a toy bear she found in the garbage in Rouge City. She tried rebooting it a couple times, but for some reason it won't stop calling out your name."

(cont…)

18


	19. Chapter 19

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress**

**by Bryan Harrison**

**Part 19**

**1**

David ran to the bow, grasped the fore-stay and swung himself over the bowsprit, to dangle above the waters that frothed at the hull of the boat. The day was bright and the salt air crisp against his face. But that wasn't the reason for his excitement. On the foggy horizon ahead, he could finally see the great monoliths of Manhattan jutting from the ocean.

They had arrived!

He laughed and called out, "Hiro! Chiyoko! Come see this!" The couple made no response. But when he turned to fetch them he saw that they were already on the deck, arms wrapped around one another, watching him.

"The End Of The World!" David said, gesturing excitedly towards the distant ruins.

"Yes, David. I see", Hiro said, his tone hovering between a laugh and a sigh.

Chiyoko said nothing. As usual. And the ever-present frown was still on her face. But there were emotions in her eyes as deep as the waters beneath.

She would miss him. They both would

And he would miss them too.

Had it really been only a week?

**2**

Hiro had set out quickly that first night, immediately after wrapping David's ankle in an improvised splint, (made, ironically, from the support braces of a discarded Mecha leg.) He'd explained to David that it wasn't safe to sleep docked; that there were too many desperate people that roamed at night. So the sky was still dark when they unmoored to set anchor a mile or so offshore.

"We can sleep secure now. Set out at daylight," Hiro said, helping David to a small cot Chiyoko had set up for him inside the large cabin.

David was surprised that she'd gone to the effort. He wasn't quite sure what to make of her, at first. And she seemed not sure what to make of David; had been frowning at him ever since Hiro had carried him aboard. But at least she's put the gun away.

"You're a skinny boy," she'd said numerous times, clucking her tongue, squinting skeptical eyes at him. "And why a teddy bear? Child's toy!"

David started to explain, but realized it would be way too complicated. He just shrugged in response. Chiyoko shook her head.

"Well, you turn it off til you get to Manhattan. Noisy thing!" she'd complained and ambled away, grumbling something about skinny boys with children's toys. But then she'd surprised David by returning with a large container of steaming soup and setting it by his cot.

He had politely declined. It wasn't that it was bad. In fact the aroma had been quite invigorating. But he didn't feel like eating, or even sleeping, that night. One might have thought that his time imprisoned in the deep (which he could barely remember now) would have prepared him for life on the rollicking waters. But he'd quickly found his head spinning and his stomach turning once the boat set out. For his first day at sea, he could keep nothing down, and had spent most his time clinging to anything secure while trying to keep the weight off his ankle..

But like all things, good and bad, these problems also passed. By the time the second night fell, he was feeling better. The swelling in his ankle was gone and he'd fallen easily into a deep slumber.

He'd found himself in a strange blue dream that night, one he'd had before but could never recall upon waking. The next morning he'd risen, rested and alert, to find another container of Chiyoko's hot soup sitting by his cot. He'd downed this one quickly; a tasty combination of spiced fish and vegetables, and then made his way up to the deck where he found Hiro sorting through piles of what many might call garbage.

Chiyoko was there too, sitting in a chair. She'd looked at David, confused, her eyes jumping back and forth between his face and the ankle that seemed to have healed overnight.

"You get better fast," Hiro observed with a laugh. David returned his smile but made no response. Chiyoko continued to stare at him suspiciously. An unspoken question lingered in her eyes for a moment, but then evaporated as her thoughts went elsewhere.

"You learn this," she had commanded, pointing at the pile of discarded treasure. David willingly sat down beside Hiro and the man had proceeded to show him how to find valuables in the trash. They'd sorted through almost a week's gatherings that day, and David was amazed at Hiro's knowledge on the subject of salvaging junk.

"Look here," the man said, holding up slim band of metal with a greenish tint to it. "A rogue's broken restriction belt," he explained. "It was probably a servant of some kind." He'd went on to explain that the belts were usually placed under the skin of the head and if the bot gets stolen, the thieves would cut it out and throw it away.

"If the bot is smart enough they find a way to do it themselves," he'd said with a wink. "But lately they've been installing perimeter restrictions. Automatic cutoff points." Hiro sighed when he said this. "Too bad. The restriction belts were an easy sell but most of the newer models don't have them."

A flash of memory crossed David's mind: Angelo's face, frozen against a dreary gray backdrop of forest. He didn't let the sadness reach his face.

"Why can't they just program the robot to not run away?" David asked, partly because he felt the need to change the subject, and partly because he was genuinely curious. It had occurred to him how little he knew about himself… about what he used to be.

Hiro seemed grateful for the question. "Ahh that!" he said cheerfully. "Well it has to do with motivations, David. Motivations define choices and choices define personality."

David wrinkled his brow. "What do you mean?" he said.

Hiro stood and adopted his professorial posture. "In the old days robots had to be told everything. You had to be very specific about what you wanted when you spoke to them, or you would wind up with strange responses. 'Garbage in, garbage out', they used to say.

"Let's say I was to line up a set of images before you. A dog, a plane and a boat. Then I was to tell you to point to the boat. What would you do?"

This was kind of silly, David thought. "Point to the picture of the boat," he said. Then he shrugged, certain that it was some kind of trick question. "Right?"

"Of course, Hiro laughed. "But if you were an older robot, one incapable of abstract thinking, you might point down to the deck beneath you. Because _that_ is a boat. The other is just a picture of a boat."

"Ah," David said. "So you would have to say 'point to the picture of a boat'."

"Correct, my young friend!" Hiro replied. "Now this is just an example, but what I am talking about is context, David. Context is everything, as they used to say."

"Who?" David said.

"Who what?"

"Who used to say that?"

Hiro laughed. "Good boy! You exemplified my point exactly!"

David didn't realize he'd made a joke, but decided he liked the look of approval in Hiro's eyes and let the question stand.

"'They' is an abstract, David," Hiro explained. "And the picture is also an abstract. Being capable of abstract thinking, you understood what I meant and picked the picture of a boat, even though I specifically asked you to point to the boat. That's context.

"The simple, literal mind, though, would not comprehend the context, and therefore not get the abstract. From the abstract we get the symbolism; the meaning behind the image, or the words. The true story, as it were."

"Oh," David said not really understanding, but certain he would. Eventually. Hiro continued.

"So, you may ask, how does this tie into using restriction belts instead of programming? Well, if you want a robot to be capable of higher abstract reasoning, for example, a butler who won't throw away the potting soil you just bought because it's dirt, without you having to tell it, … then you have to allow its mind to form associations on its own. The more you limit that mental growth with predefined definitions and responses, the more you limit the brain's ability to learn and adapt to new and undefined situations.

"So if we do not let the robot have the choice of running away, it never includes that option into its choices, and choices define personality."

The man was quiet, letting the boy digest this.

David hummed thoughtfully. "So, if the robot is allowed the option of running away," he said, "then it will be able to make the choice of not doing it, which will let it learn… " David stopped, lost for words. He understood the principle, but didn't know how to say it.

Hiro stepped in. "Not having the option makes you a robot. Having the option of running away but being aware of the consequences, allows the robot to develop an understanding of choices and consequences, and that defines personality."

The impact of Angelo's sacrificial decision came back into David's mind. He looked away, certain that the pain of losing his friend would reach his face this time. Hiro misunderstood David's sudden distraction to mean he was getting bored with the subject.

"Oh, listen to me go on!" the man laughed. He picked up the old restriction belt. "Most people don't know this," he said, "but these can be converted for use as solar cells. Let me show you!"

He'd taken David to the roof of the cabin. It was covered with bits and pieces from discarded toys and Mecha. They been shaped into a dish that caught the sunlight and turned it into power to drive the computers and machinery that moved the boat on days the winds were not enough.

"Nothing wasted, David," Hiro said proudly. "And that too is a choice."

David nodded to acknowledge the lesson. Hiro laughed again, and ruffled the boy's hair.

Chiyoko's voice boomed from the cabin. "You two! No more talk! Back to work!"

Hiro feigned alarm. "The boss has spoken!" he stage whispered as he climbed back down to the deck.

**3**

The night had come mercifully, putting a stop to their work. David's hands ached from sorting though rubbish. His shoulders were sore from carrying objects into the hull. Chiyoko seemed to take some satisfaction in this, or at least the faint smile in the corner of her mouth suggested she did. She had prepared meals silently as Hiro chatted on about history and politics, robots and philosophy. David listened attentively, trying to follow the man, though he didn't understand most of what was said. It was also harder to retain information. And this bothered him.

In his former life he had been able to retain things instantly, names, date numbers… anything! Now he found himself asking Hiro to repeat things, or having to later be refreshed about a date of an event as Hiro recounted things that had happened before his father's father had been born.

But there was something Hiro said that David would not forget. A date. It was Chiyoko's reaction would lock it in his mind.

Hiro had been speaking about robots again, elaborating on the themes he had established earlier. David had wondered why a man who knew so much about robots didn't own one. He was about to ask this rather obvious question when Hiro said,

"And if ever there was an event that stressed the importance of robots it was 3/11. Now if they had functional Mecha, the human workers would not have had to be exposed to the…" The man stopped when he noticed the look on his wife's face. David saw it too. Her brow was creased and her mouth pinched, as if to say, '_do you have to talk about that?" _

It was the first time David had seen any vulnerability in the wrinkled fortress of her expression.

"Exposed to what?" he said, intrigued by her reaction.

Hiro clucked his tongue, and tapped his fingers on the table. "Well, it's dark enough outside," the man said. "No need to bring the darkness in here too." Then his face lit up. "Have you ever seen a navigation system?" he said.

David spent the remainder of the night learning about digital radar, ocean floor imaging and geo-synchronous satellites.

**4**

When exactly their bond had formed David would not be able to recall. But as the days passed he came to feel at home, like he belonged here. Mommy's face was still in his head. The drive to be with her was an ever present tugging at his heart, amplified during the silent nights on the cot. But she was like a distant goal. Sailing the sea with Hiro and Chiyoko had become his life for now; salvaging the submerged treasures from sunken cities. Selling them at the various ports that lined beaches that were often less than a generation old. He quickly adapted to it all.

On the sixth day at sea, as he was helping Hiro unload a pallet of salvaged junk in the improvised port of a half-submerged town that had once had the strange name of 'Ramsey', David noticed a burly old dock hand looking at him strangely.

Ever aware that he might be recognized, in spite of his now shoulder length hair and golden tan, David tried to avoid the gaze. But when the man persisted, he had taken another tact.

"What the hell you looking at?" David demanded, taking on a challenging posture he had learned from the wild boys in the forest.

The man hadn't seemed daunted by the response. He'd simply nodded at Hiro who was bartering with the man's partner, and said, "So how you know ol' Hiro here?"

David though about it for a moment.

"He's…my Dad," he replied, taking pleasure in the confused look that came into the man's face. He also took pleasure in the thought that he would have a man like Hiro for a father. The man would have been as good a candidate as any he had met so far.

**5**

That night, the one that would be their last together, they'd been sitting on the deck. The cabin lights had been turned off and David was lying on his back, hands folded behind his head, enjoying the panorama of stars above, listening to the sea lapping against the hull and pondering all the things Hiro had spoken of. What a grand puzzle, this humanity.

Chiyoko had finally allowed him to turn Teddy back on, and the little bear was sitting quietly on a pile of sorted discards, curiously eyeing the old couple, who were sitting in deck chairs, eying David with fond expressions.

"Haven't seen a storm all week," Hiro said, breaking the silence. "You're good luck, David."

David looked up from where he lay. "Well I guess we both got lucky," he said.

Hiro chuckled, then his face sobered. "Next stop Manhattan," he said.

"Yes," David said, sadly. "So soon."

Hiro nodded, but said nothing. There was no need for words. He stood then, and kissed his wife gently on the head. "Don't stay up too late. We still have to get up early," he said. Then he'd walked into the cabin, leaving David and Chiyoko alone.

David was surprised by the man's exit. It was usually Chiyoko that was telling them it was time to sleep before she made her exit. He had maybe spent a whole of five minutes alone in the woman's presence. But strangely, he found he was comfortable with her now. He was also surprised when she cleared her throat and began to speak.

"You get much stronger now. Not so skinny anymore," she chuckled. "This is good."

David felt awkward with her compliment. But she was right. He did feel stronger… more 'here' than when he had joined them. He sat up and made a show of flexing his biceps for her amusement. She chuckled again.

"So what do you do at the End Of World?" she said.

This was the first time either of them had asked David that question, and he had to think a moment before he responded.

"I'm going to see my … a relative." He had almost said 'father'. Creator, yes. Father? No. There were too many conflicting feelings there.

"Ah! Good," Chiyoko said with a satisfied hum. "Family is good."

David looked at the woman. She gazed back with an unreadable expression, her eyes shadowed in the night.

"And your family?" he said, genuinely curious.

Now he could definitely read her face. She became reflective. David could see she was looking back, back to a time when life had been much different. But there was something dark there.

"They are gone now," she said.

David shuffled uncomfortably. The issue of mortality was still new to him and he had no idea how to proceed… or even if he should.

Eventually he settled for "I'm sorry to hear that." It was apparently the right response.

"Nice for you to say, David. You are a good young man. Not like so many bad boys I see in the city."

Again her compliment made David feel awkward. _'If you only knew'_ he thought.

"How did it happen?" he said, unsure if it was a proper question, but sensing that she wanted to tell him. He was right again. She leaned back and let out a long sigh.

"Many years ago, things happened. Bad things," she said. "I am from a place called _Nippon-koku_. You know that?"

David shrugged his shoulders. The name seemed familiar and he was sure it had once been in his databanks. But that was another life.

"You might call it Japan," she said.

"Oh, I know of that," David said, having vague recollections of boy dolls with soft Asian features hanging quietly on the Cybertronics wall. His brothers, yet to be awakened to the world of sensation.

Chiyoko nodded. "There is too much history to tell now. And I don't talk so much as Hiro," she said. They both laughed at this. Then she continued.

"But one day the earth shook in a great quake, and ocean rose. ___Higashi Nihon Daishinsai_, we named it. It started near a place called_ Tōhoku_. It was a _tsunami_, tidal wave in English, and it washed away so many lives. It happened on the eleventh day in the month of March in the year 2011, so many people call it 3/11. I don't like that. It is too easy to say; too short for so much death. So much tragedy."

David tried to imagine the waves crashing over the fleeing people; the sick and feeble unable to flee. And the children! His mind could not contain such horror. He was quiet a moment, intuitively knowing such statements needed space to settle.

"Is that how they… is that what took them away?" he said at last.

Chiyoko shook her head. "No, no. This was many, many years ago. Long before my grandparent's time, when the people of my family lived inland, far from the oceans. That place is now underwater with much of my country. But the waves could not have reached them.

"Many bad decisions were made by short-sighted men, David. They pursued dangerous sources of energy for expedience. For profit. These things became more important than people… than our future. They ignored the dangers; became reckless and took short cuts to make money. When the ocean rose, the energy facility was flooded. I can't tell you the science of these things, the world had to abandon them and they don't exist anymore, but it was called a _melt down_ … and radiation was released. It affected the entire world, but our people suffered the most.

"They grew sick and illness has followed us down through the generations. Shortening our lives. When I was young, my family sent me away from that place. I was only 20 when I met Hiro and he took me to sea. I escaped the poisoned land. But I have not seen my family since."

David thought he might understand her now.

"That's sad," he said, not having any other words to express his feelings. They sat quietly for a time, letting this new relationship grow between them. Finally Chiyoko rose and touched David gently on the shoulder.

_"A flower falls, even though we love it; and a weed grows, even though we do not love it"_

She spoke so softly that David wasn't even sure he'd heard her. He absorbed the words in silence, wondering at their meaning. The old woman laughed suddenly, sounding strangely like Hiro for one moment.

"That is the words of _Dagon_, a famous thinker from our history, David," she said. "It is like saying the world will be what it is, good or bad, in spite our feelings.

"But still we must make decisions, David," she said. "And our choices affect more than ourselves. They affect the world."

"Yes, Ma'am," David said, understanding now that this had been more than just a story; that she had been trying to tell him something important. But why? He looked up into her piercing black eyes, pondering the depths of unspoken wisdom that lay behind them. There was a new connection there, like an inaudible whisper that passed between them.

"Time for bed now," she said, and made her way to be with her man. The only family she had left.

**6**

Now they were passing through the shadow cast by the great torch of the submerged statue. It loomed over the boat like a giant stone sentry, marking the end of the known world. David knew there was another statue nearby, one to which he had prayed and had been granted this new life. But he did not know how to find her again. He quickly pushed the thought away. It was strange. Why he would want to find the fairy again?

He was distracted from his thoughts by the cries of birds that had nested in the folds and cranny of the stone torch. They were making a squawking din, hovering over the boat to see if there was anything edible on the decks. Hiro rushed out to wave them away. Then the boat's alert system came to life, blaring a static message to all aboard.

"_Warning to occupants. You are entering a Mecha Restricted Area. Infractions will be duly prosecuted."_

It finally occurred to David why the couple had no Mecha on board.

"You'll have to turn the bear off David," Hiro said.

David was about to point out that he had once flown into the city without any problem. But then realized that would require more explanation than they had time for.

"Sorry Teddy," he said as he picked the toy up and rendered it unconscious again.

Soon they were passing though the cluster of silent towers, floating over the sunken streets of Manhattan. David had come in by air the last time he'd been here, and the roar of the copter's motor had been the only sound. But the boat's engine was barely a hum and David could hear the strange noises of the sunken city; the creaking of the rusted skyscrapers, the clang of dangling metal infrastructure striking the stone buildings in the breeze, the lonely whistle of wind though broken windows of the buildings all around.

And… music!

Music?

It was only a distant thump at first, but as they rounded one of the buildings David could hear it clearly, and see other boats docked alongside one of the towers. Then he saw people peeking out from windows. Some of them were dancing to the music, others were laying around talking or drinking from large frothing mugs. One of them, a large burly man with a furry gray beard and tattered, colorful clothing, noticed Hiro's boat floating by, and jumped out onto a balcony. He waved at them to come over. But Hiro made a circling gesture with his arm to signify he'd be back later. The man held up a thumb to let him know he'd be waiting, and then went back into the building.

"They live in that place?" David said.

Hiro laughed. "Well, who do you think I do business with around here?" he said.

Then David noticed people in the windows of other buildings far ahead, and floating in boats, fishing or lowering large cables into the water. David was mystified by it all. He had not noticed them before.

"Life goes on David," Hiro said. "They're salvagers, hauling up the stuff too big for the divers to get. I used to dive. But the waters are too dungeons now. If I get hurt Chiyoko would be alone." The man's face grew grim for a minute. Then his smile came back.

"You'd be surprised what they find around here!" he said. "Why, not too long ago they even found a boy!" he laughed again. "A real live boy! Can you believe that?

David's heart jumped. He made a sound of surprised acknowledgement, but did not look at the man. He pretended to be absorbed in what the divers were doing on a passing boat, hoping Hiro would take his reluctance for disinterest and change the subject.

"I wasn't here that day," Hiro said, "but a couple of locals told me all about it. Said cops were all over the place. And there was something mysterious about the whole affair. Some Government people showed up, blockaded the city, asked everybody questions. Apparently there was some kind of security breach, but it was all hush hush. Somehow a kid had stolen an old police amphibi…"

The man's words trailed off suddenly. David could hear his breathing quicken, feel the man's eye on him.

"Why did you really come here, David," Hiro said cautiously.

David sighed and turned his head up slowly to see Hiro gazing on him with suspicious eyes. David returned the look expressionlessly. The man's curiosity slowly bloomed into realization, and then to shock as they stared at each other in silence.

"Do you trust me, Hiro?" David said at last.

Hiro did not respond at first. Then nodded slowly, confounded by the confirmation, knowing better than to ask anything more. He continued to stare at David as a low rumbling grew in the distance. It was the sound of an undying river of tears crashing into the ocean.

"I'm coming home," David said. "To the place where the lions weep."

**7**

David knew this place. He had once watched his friend ascend to the sky here, caught up in the pull of a police tractor beam. It hadn't changed in all that time.

The Cybertronics building rose from the ocean to tower high above them; the sunlight reflecting off its green surface cast an eerie tint on the ocean. David had a flash recollection of falling from the wall of the great building. He pushed that memory aside. There was still pain in these recollections; pain that no creature, flesh or fiber, should have to suffer.

Chiyoko had stopped the boat and the plank had automatically hummed to life, creating a walkway to the dock. Silently David gathered his bag and stood before the plank. The bear would be too cumbersome to carry, so he turned it back on. Teddy awoke with a grunt and took in the surroundings.

"Where is this place, David?" Teddy said.

"The waters and the wild," David said, taking the toy's hand. Then he turned to say goodbye to his friends.

"Will you be ok?" Hiro said, not able to contain the emotion in his voice. "Should we wait for you?"

"I don't know what will happen here, Hiro," David said. "There might be… trouble. I don't want you two to get caught up in my problems."

Hiro thought for a moment. Then he looked at Chiyoko.

"What do you say, Boss," he said, trying to be humorous, but too sad to summon his typical laugh.

The old woman stared at David with guarded eyes. Then she walked quickly forward to wrap her old arms tightly around him. David let go of Teddy and returned the woman's embrace. After a moment Hiro joined them. The trio stood that way for some time, holding each other quietly, letting their bond solidify by the natural process of human contact.

When she finally stepped back, the woman's cheeks were wet with fresh tears, And there was something new there; something that Hiro had rarely seen, and David never.

She was smiling.

"We will wait for you, boy," Chiyoko said.

It was David's turn to let a tear fall.

"Ok," he said when he'd regained composure. "But if the police come…" He thrust his chin up. "I don't want either of you in trouble."

The two signaled that they understood.

Dark clouds had gathered on the distant horizon. The winds had begun to kick up.

A storm was coming.

David took Teddy's hand again and turned to make his way over the plank and into the dark corridors that led from the old abandoned dock into the great Cybertronics building, from which he had been wrought, and where his past, and his future, would be revealed

_(cont…)_


	20. Chapter 20

_Next segment will come real soon. Don't know why, but I am on a roll here._ _Thanx for following along, and for your encouragement._** - **_Bry_**  
**

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress**

**by Bryan Harrison**

**Part 20**

**1**

The passageway was large enough for a cargo truck. The floor was dry and level. The rays of sunlight coming from the entrance behind David were sufficient to light his way. So why was it so hard to move forward? Once again he found himself facing the strength of his new human emotions. Each step was more difficult than the last. Yet there was no obstacle before him… but the one in his head.

And his heart.

Relax, he told himself. 'Don't forget why you're here. You've come to find out Mommy's whereabouts. The rest is over now. Unimportant. Leave the past behind.' But even as he thought these things, he knew it was impossible. He was only here because of his past. It was tied to the present. And to his future.

"_My son was one of a kind."_

The words sprang up unexpectedly from the dark pit of David's memory. The emotion that followed almost caused him to turn around. He had almost forgotten the encounter. Where had these thoughts been lurking all this time, just to resurface here?

"_You are the first of a kind." _

David was forced to stop this time, and wipe a sudden tear from his cheek. But it was not sadness that moved him. What was it? Anger? Fear?

"Are you ok, David" Teddy said, its robotic features twisted into a simulation of concern.

"I'm fine," David said quickly. Too quickly. He was fighting something, but not sure what. He breathed deeply to settle himself. "Sorry Teddy. It's just that I…" but he decided he did not feel like explaining anything to Teddy. He couldn't anyway. How do you explain such a complex web of emotions to a toy?

"Let's keep going," David said.

They moved deeper into the building. The light faded, and their footfalls became more pronounced as the sound of the ocean receded. Soon David could barley see at all.

"It's too dark for me, Teddy," David said, once again frustrated by his body's limitations. "What do you see?" He heard the Supertoy's head whirring softly in the dark beside him, as it adjusted its eyes.

"There's a large door ahead of us, David" Teddy said.

"Lead me," David said.

Teddy guided David into the darkness until they met a large metal barrier. David ran his hands over the surface. It was dusty and corroded, smelled of salt water and mechanical grease. He began searching for a handle.

"No, David. Over here," Teddy said, guiding the boy's hand to a protrusion in the wall. David felt the object blindly, wondering what it could be. It was oval, with small buttons on its center. Was it a doorknob? He wrapped his hand around it and tried to pull. Then he felt one of the buttons depress.

The buzzing of an alarm pierced the darkness and echoed though the empty passageway.

"Oops," David said and started backing away. He blanched when a metallic voice erupted in the dark.

"_Hey! This dock is closed. Who in the heck is out there?"_

David stammered, looking for the right words. But there were none. A whirring sound came from the space above him.

"_I seeee you," _the voice said. "_You're in a restricted zone. You better have some identifica…"_ but the voice stopped mid-sentence. David heard the camera whirring again.

"_Oh, not again_," the voice said, anger obvious in its tone. "_You stay put!"_ Then the connection went dead.

David was locked in indecision as the old cargo lift started whirring. Even if there was another way inside, they had seen him now. There were probably cameras all over the building.

"Should we run, Teddy?" David said.

"I don't know, David." Teddy replied.

David turned to see that the entrance was now just a dot of light far behind them. How long would it take for the man to get here? If he started running now, maybe they could… But then he heard the lift's gears grind to a halt, and the metal door began to creak open slowly.

"Too late," David muttered.

A sliver of light appeared at the foot of the old cargo elevator, and grew slowly as the door opened. A man was standing there, illuminated in the stark florescent light on the ceiling. His face was obscured by the shadow from his cap, so David could not read his expression, but he wore a gray uniform with the word '_Security_' written above the chest pocket_._ The man stared at the odd couple for a moment, saying nothing, his hands resting on his hips.

"Hello," Teddy said, waving a paw. It was an automatic response.

David shrugged innocently and deployed his 'disarming smile'.

The Guard clucked his tongue and sighed.

"Now how in the heck you two get out here?" he said, shaking his head. Then he reached out suddenly, and roughly yanked them both inside.

"Be nice!" Teddy commanded.

The man laughed at this. But there was no humor there. It was a weary and frustrated sound. He looked at David with the eyes of a man whose work is never done.

"You brat bots gonna cost me my job one of these days," he said as the elevator door closed and it began to ascend.

**2**

"Don't tell me 'no way', it's standing right here!" the Guard said. "Got a little toy bear with it. Found 'em in the old sea level loading dock. I told you guys we ought to board that place up, but nobody listens."

They were in a large room now, with a wide array of screens on the walls, showing various points around the building. David and Teddy were seated in large comfortable chairs while the Guard argued with a dark haired man in one of the screens. The man in the monitor was dressed in a white lab coat and wore small oval glasses. He pushed his glasses up higher on his nose and scratched his head.

"A toy bear?" the man in the monitor said, confusion in his voice. "Well, what model is the mecha?"

"How the heck would I know?" the guard blurted. "That's outta my pay scale. I do security. Remember?"

"Just describe it for me," the other said, impatient now.

"It's one of those brat bots; the 'David' things," the guard replied, glancing over his shoulder. "But it looks like a custom … or else somebody's been tinkering around when you guys are browsing Facebook. Either way, I don't care what model it is, it's not supposed to be running around loose in the facility."

The man in the monitor looked mystified.

"It sounds like something out of marketing. But they already wrapped up inventory on the Davids. Everything that wasn't shipped out yesterday is accounted for." He sighed and glanced at the watch on his arm. "Look, those guys are gone for the day, and I was just leaving. Can't you just… ya know, stash it in a closet until tomorrow? We can figure out where it goes then."

The guard had enough. "Hey, I ain't doing the heavy lifting for anymore of your run-a-ways," he yelled. "Now you get someone down here to retrieve this thing or I'll write it up and you can explain to the Professor why you can't keep your chickens in the coop!"

"Ok. Ok. Bring it down a notch," the monitor man said. "I'll send someone." He walked away from the screen, swearing under his breath.

The guard sat back with a satisfied grunt.

"What model is it?" he snickered, mocking the lab man. "Do you believe these damned lab-geeks." He swiveled his chair around and shot David a sour look.

"This place is like Oz, ya know what I mean?"

"No sir," David replied, keeping his face as expressionless as possible.

"I mean, it makes a real good first impression," the Guard said, "but when you look closer, you realize it's just a big freak show run by a huckster and populated by midgets and fairies!"

He laughed and kicked out so that his chair rolled backwards to a large console where he started punching buttons. The images in the monitors began changing rapidly. The guard went into a rant as he scanned the images.

"Hobby's got thirty-five full time lab-geeks in residence who spend most of their time diddling around the net when he ain't lookin'. In between playing games and browsing porno, somehow they manage to crank out enough of you little brat bots to justify their salary. Then they toss half of you in storage just to keep the market price up.

"Got fifty service bots in this facility. Twenty-five gofers to maintain the labs, Fifteen for dusting and cleaning commodes for the geeks. Five assistants for the Orga chefs they bring in for the little monthly soirée's Hobby throws his investors. And then they got five clueless security bots that spend all day poking around 200 empty rooms."

He turned to face David again "Five!" he said, letting the word linger as if he expected some reaction. David smiled blankly and somehow managed not to laugh. The man turned back to the console.

"Hobby kids himself, thinking this remote location makes security optional. I only got two other humans watching the monitors with me; a tired old guy who replaces me for the evening shift and a kid who takes graveyard after spending all day hanging out with the tranc-heads and scavengers who live in the ruins over 42nd Street.

"This is a multi-million dollar business. Got virtually no overhead here, pay no property taxes, and still they spend all their time pinchin' pennies!"

He glanced over his shoulder.

"You know what trickles down, kid?" he said.

David shook his head dutifully.

"Trouble! Nuthin' but trouble!" The man made that hollow laughter again, and turned back to the monitor array.

"Aw, what am I talking to fiber-head for?" he said. "I'm getting as batty as the geeks. Sometimes I wonder why I didn't stay in…" He stopped suddenly, his attention drawn to something on the screen. "Hello? What do we have here," he said, staring at a small panel in the array. He keyed a button and the panel doubled in size.

David now saw what the Guard was looking at. It was a boat. There were two people on the deck, and it was floating by an abandoned dock. He had to bite his tongue to keep from swearing aloud.

The man keyed the comm. "Ok, move it along you two!" he said, "This is a restricted zone! No fishing. No salvaging. And no loitering!"

David saw the small figure of Hiro waving to the camera, and Chiyoko moving reluctantly into the cabin. After a moment the boat backed off the dock and floated slowly away.

Well, that escape is gone, David thought. He was grateful that the man hadn't made the connection with Hiro's boat and his appearance in their abandoned loading dock. But now he'd have to make other plans for escape. If he ever got out of this jam, that is. He probably should have planned this better, he thought. But than again, how could he have known what to expect. Fate had been with him so far. She probably wouldn't fail him now.

The guard made a disgusted sound and turned to face David again. "I seen those two before," he said. "Salvagers. Always trying to find scraps in the sunken sections." He clucked his tongue and shook his head, as if the idea was somehow pitiful.

David maintained his flat smile, but he hoped they would come fetch him soon, whoever they were, because it was getting difficult to keep up his lifeless appearance. The room was getting warm. He felt sweat beading on his forehead.

The man must have noticed this, because his eyes squinted in curiosity. He began seriously looking David over for the first time. The tan. The sun bleached blonde hair hanging to his collar. The worn clothing, hands calloused from work.

The Guard shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"That's weird," he said slowly. "So, uh… You must be some new thing 'eh?"

'_You have no idea, mister'_ is what David wanted to tell him. "Yes, sir," is all he said though.

The man seemed about to say something more when a door hissed open behind David. The Guard looked up, relief in his face.

"Took you long enough," he said, and pointed at David. "There's your cargo. Dump it upstairs with the others." Then he went back to examining his monitors.

David turned to see who had come to retrieve him. It was a blonde haired man. He stood in the elevator door, arms folded behind his back. He appeared to be in his 30s and was dressed in a servant's uniform. He had a flat generic smile on his generic face.

David felt his spirits lifting. This couldn't have worked out better.

He rose, picked up Teddy from the chair beside him and approached the Mecha. The flat smile faltered as he neared. Its eyes followed him as he passed and took a place inside the elevator. Now it was gazing at him with open suspicion.

It knew, David realized. It knew he was Orga. Of course it would know.

The Mecha turned towards the Guard, and was about to say something when David hissed under his breath.

"Get inside the elevator."

There were a few things David remembered from his other life; rules that were hardcoded inside the brain of every Mecha, and could only be removed by extensive and illegal reprogramming. Chief among them was to always obey a direct command from an Orga. It was part of the Asimovian code. This bot would be no different.

The service Mecha turned to face David again, its conflict clear in its expression. It was torn between two obligations: either obey the direct command, or alert the closest authority figure to the presence of a stranger. Its decision would depend entirely on what security measures it had been implanted with.

"Get inside now," David hissed, just loud enough that the Mecha would hear. Still the thing hesitated. Only seconds had passed but it seemed much longer as the two stared at each other in silent confrontation.

"Hey!"

The Guard's voice erupted from across the room, interrupting their standoff. They both looked to see the man glaring at them from his console.

"You two go on stand-by or somethin'?" the man said.

"Sir," the service Mecha began, "I believe you should be made aware that-"

The Guard pounded his fist on the console "Get that brat bot outta here!" he yelled. "Thing gives me the creeps."

David managed not to gloat as the Mecha entered the elevator. As the elevator doors closed, he let out a sigh of relief. Fate had not yet abandoned him.

**3**

They ascended in silence, the service Mecha standing motionless, staring blankly ahead. The Guard had inadvertently saved David's mission by giving the Mecha a direct command, one that backed up his own. But he knew the moment the Mecha had a chance, it would follow its default obligation and report him to an authority figure. He had to avoid an encounter with any of them.

"Tell me your name," David said.

The Mecha hesitated a moment "I am called Alfred, sir," it replied finally, without looking at him.

"Stop the elevator, Alfred" David said.

Still caught between two conflicting obligations, Alfred reluctantly reached out and pressed a button on the control panel. The elevator stopped its ascension. Still, the service Mecha would not look at him.

"Where is Alan Hobby?" David said. When the bot did not respond, he changed his approach. "Take me to the office of Alan Hobby," he commanded.

"I cannot access that floor without permission, sir," Alfred quickly replied.

David thought for a moment. This was a game of strategy. He had the advantage since, unlike any creature before; he had existed on both sides of the board. He knew what was happening in Alfred's brain. But what barriers had been erected to prevent the bot from acting on its own volition? He would find out.

"Well, I am giving you permission," David said at last.

"You do not have authority, sir," Alfred said.

"I am giving myself authority."

"You cannot authorize yourself to give authority."

David noticed that Alfred had not said "sir" this time. And its voice was becoming testy. So there was some variation in its programming after all. He remembered what Hiro had told him. Did Alfred have the option of disobedience? He felt a touch of guilt for what he was about to do.

"Look at me," David commanded.

Alfred slowly turned to face David. Its face betrayed no emotion, but David knew its mind was reeling in indecision

"Who am I?" David said.

"I do not know your name."

"If you do not know my name, then you do not know me. If you do not know me, you cannot possibly know if I have authority or not."

"You are a stranger, and a stranger cannot-"

"I am Orga!" David interrupted. "And your prime directive is to obey!"

"David, be nice!" Teddy complained.

"Shut up, Teddy!" David snapped. "And do not speak again until I give you permission." He turned his attention back to Alfred. "Do as I say."

"I am obligated to obey only the proper authority," Alfred said. "And since I cannot ascertain your authority, I will have to consult with someone who can."

Then it reached for the control panel.

"Do not touch that button!" David ordered. The robot's arm fell back to its side.

"Look at me," David commanded. Alfred obliged again. David knew its brain was calculating a logical way out of this predicament. The mind games weren't working like he hoped they would. It was time for a change of strategy.

"Who am I?" David said again.

"I do not know your-"

"Who do I appear to be," David interrupted.

"You appear to be a child replicant of the variety known as David."

"Yet I am Orga. How do you explain that?"

Alfred did not respond. A strange look came into its eyes. Just for an instant. Had he not once been Mecha, David might not have noticed it. But he did, and he knew he had struck a nerve in the Mecha's limited logic.

It was time to go for the throat.

"Yes, Alfred, I appear as David because I am," he said. "But not a copy. Not a simulation. I am Orga; I am the flesh and blood son of Alan Hobby. Heir of your highest authority: your creator. I have fought my way through fire and water to see him and it will be done! Whether or not you think I have the right to speak with my own father doesn't mean a damned thing to me. I do have authority to see that you are shut down and dismantled, and I will use that authority if you fail to obey me again!"

If Alfred had been capable of emotion, David might have seen fear in its face. That and awe. They stared at one another for another timeless moment. Then the service Mecha turned back to the control panel.

"Yes, sir," it said as it pressed the button for the 27th floor. They began to ascend.

**4**

David remembered this room; the stark angles of the furniture, the cold light breaking through the great window, the dark shadows that embraced the corners. And the silhouette of the Cybertronics statue that stood outside on the ledge, its arms spread wide and hands fanned back, like a bird awaiting a lifting breeze.

But the place was empty now. He was alone. His siblings, who had once been draped on the walls or imprisoned in boxes that stood in the center of the room, were now being stored elsewhere in the building.

He turned to see Alfred standing attentively near the door to the elevator.

"Wait here until I return," he said. The Mecha nodded obediently and folded its arms behind its back. Then David looked down at his friend.

"You wait too, Teddy," he said. "You can't help me now." Teddy's head dropped, but he obeyed and went to the service bot's side.

David turned and stepped across the threshold of this unavoidable encounter.

It was silent. Only the distant, unending rumble of the Lions could be heard. Across the room lay the glass doors he had once disobeyed his creator to pass through. Beyond those doors lay the room where his creator had revealed the truth that broke his innocent Mecha heart. The pain was still there. It would likely always be there, like the remnant of a childhood wound that would occasionally wake to torment his silent moments.

What was his plan now? How was he to approach this man? The same way he had done before, when his innocence had left him vulnerable?

Yes, he decided. He would confront him directly. But it wouldn't go the same as before. Things had changed. He was no longer innocent. He was no longer vulnerable.

And now he was truly unique. Truly one of a kind. The only one.

"Professor Hobby?" David said as he approached the door.

There was no reply, just the moan of distant thunder that competed with the roaring lions.

The storm was coming.

"Professor Hobby?" David said, louder this time, feeling the surge of expectation arise in him. He peeked through the doors and saw the books lined up on polished wooden shelves. Beyond them was the other door, one with words cut into its surface. They were backward now, since he was looking from the inside. But he knew what they said.

"Come away o human child, to the waters and the wild…"

He didn't need to recall the rest. It had all been a trick. A treachery.

He started to open the doors. Then he heard it. A voice. It was not in the study before him, but coming from behind. David turned and saw another doorway across the room. He approached it slowly. As he neared it, he could hear a man speaking in soft measured tones.

He knew that voice. It had once broken his heart.

David approached the door and pulled the handle, gently, as if he were opening the door of a sacred shrine. The room beyond was the hues of dark polished wood. There were luminous displays on the walls, and charts depicting his siblings in various states of construction.

Sitting in a couch on the far side, its legs folded, its eyes downcast, gazing at a book it held in its lap, sat one of his twin brothers. It was draped in the white robes that he had once worn in his own Mecha infancy; smiling in the same lazy way he had once smiled. The sight made David's heart jump with a new, strange emotion. That was once me, he thought.

The voice came again. David followed the sound. There, sitting in a desk by the window, his back to David, sat his creator. The man was leaning back in his chair, speaking softly to someone out of his line of sight. David could not see his face, but he was silhouetted in the now faint light breaking though the window.

There was a distant rumble. The storm was getting closer.

David entered the room, quietly. The man in the chair did not hear him, did not notice his entry. He stopped near the rays of fading light that streamed into the room, his heart now racing with anticipation. And something else was inside him; something powerful was beginning to stir in his chest.

The Professor still did not notice David. He was lost in his thoughts, speaking to a computer screen, which was transferring his words into text.

"… and considering your breach of trust, Cybertronics can no longer be affiliated with the product…" The professor stopped. "No. Erase last entry to line twenty five," the man said. David watched the words disappear from the screen and then reappear as the professor began dictating again. "And in the light of these pending charges, we must refrain from any further association with your product… for the time being."

Hobby continued his dictation. David listened curiously for a moment. Apparently someone had broken his trust and he was sending them an official notice. How ironic, David thought. There seemed something pathetic about him now; sitting alone in his study, dictating his business transactions to machines that would talk to other machines and then to distant Orga whose decisions would have real effects on the lives of real people.

Hobby talked on, failing to see his tragic creation watching from the shadows nearby. His brother noticed though. It raised its head and stared. After a silent minute, it turned to look at its creator, and then back to David. But it said nothing and soon decided to go back to the book.

What lesson are you learning, little brother, David thought. Are they teaching you about love and loss? Desire and pain? These are the things that make you real.

David stepped into the light.

Alan Hobby looked up from his work. There was another David standing beside his desk. But something was wrong about this one. It was taller than standard issue. Its skin was tanned, it hair sun bleached and too long. The clothing was frayed… scuffed and stained here and there. And the look in its eyes! There was something intense about that look.

"Well, hello there," Hobby said with a chuckle. "What happened to you?" He looked David up and down and then laughed aloud. "Oh, what are those goofs up to now?" he said, scrutinizing David as if he were some new promotional device. Then he craned his head around like he was expecting to see someone else in the room.

"Marcus, is this your doing?" Hobby said with a chuckle. "Come on, I know you're out there."

David realized that he must have thought it all some sort of joke; that his employees, 'the geeks' as the Security man had called them, were just having him on. Time to wake up, Professor, David thought.

The rumble of distant thunder filled the room. The storm had arrived.

"It's me, Father," David said.

Once again he watched the amazing transition of human realization. Hobby's smile faltered. Then it disappeared altogether. He uncrossed his legs and sat upright slowly, his face darkening, brow closing in sudden anger.

"That is not funny," he said, a tremble in his voice. "Marcus!" he yelled. "I don't appreciate this type of humor! Marcus!" When no one answered he turned his attention back to what he had mistaken for an inappropriate joke. He pointed over David's shoulder.

"You go back now, down to the lab and tell Marcus that he went too far this time. I am not amused! You tell him that! Go on now."

David was amazed. The man still didn't see, did he? Even when the truth was standing right before him, he missed it. Like so many other things he failed to see; Like the suffering of his Mecha children. And how poorly equipped were men to play at being Gods.

"Don't you recognize your own flesh and blood?" David said, softly. He stepped closer; the light from the window now washing over his face and body.

Hobby was dumbfounded, his mind caught in the turbulence of disbelief and denial.

Thunder cracked again. Closer now. Raindrops began to strike the window.

David moved towards the man. Hobby seemed unable to move. He was visibly trembling now, his face twisted in confusion. He held up a hand as if to ward David off.

"This is not funny. Not funny," he kept repeating. But it was just a whimper, the mantra of a cowering child afraid to look under the bed lest he find the monsters in his imagination waiting there.

Realization was setting in.

"You're right, Father," David said. "It's not funny. Because it's not a joke."

Then he reached out and gently touched the face of his Creator.

His Father.

His betrayer.

The man shrieked and pulled away. David watched in fascination and … delight? Could it be that? Yes, David decided, it was delight he felt as he watched Alan Hobby try to rise too quickly, then slip and fall to the floor where he began scooting away, arms held out protectively, eyes wide in shock, mouth opened in a scream that could not seem to escape.

Now David knew what the feeling was that had been stirring inside him since he had set foot in the building. Revenge. Sweet and simple revenge. That most vile and most human of emotions. It flooded up from the core of his soul and erupted into the world.

"How does it feel, Father?" David yelled, a sudden tear forming in his eye, his heart aflame with this new savage joy. "How does it feel to be alone with your fear? Like you left me? Alone!"

"No-no-no…" Hobby sputtered, blinking his eyes rapidly as if this might wash the awful apparition from his sight. "You… you can't be. You can't be my son!"

Thunder cracked. A torrent of water fell and cascaded over the windows, blurring the view to the outside world.

"Oh, but I am!" David said, as Hobby recoiled in horror.

"I am David!" he screamed, triumphant. "I am special! I am unique!"

"And I am alive."

_"Alive!"_

_(cont...)_


	21. Chapter 21

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress**

**by Bryan Harrison**

**Part 21**

**1**

David stood at the window, gazing out on the deluge. The storm outside was reaching its peak. The one inside was finally passing. He had vented his rage, had been surprised at the depth and strength of it, and only a brooding silence was left in its wake. The anger was still there, and the sense of betrayal. But they were like clouds breaking in the aftermath, allowing the first faint rays of light to pass through.

Hobby had retreated to a corner where he sat huddled against the wall, mumbling incredulity and gazing on his creation with wide uncomprehending eyes. The man had been paralyzed, reduced to stunned silence during David's tirade. Now it was over. But the impossibility was still standing there, gazing out the window of his study. The boy's face was framed in silver gray light and intermittent flashes of distant lightening. It was the face of his son… or what his son might have looked like had he lived.

But he hadn't. He'd died. Long before the first replica had been constructed. Hobby shook his head to clear his thoughts. When he finally spoke, his voice was weak and paper-thin.

"You are not my son," he said. "You can't be. I saw him buried."

David did not respond at first. He placed a hand against the window and pulled it away. There was a faint print left there.

"Then who am I, Father?" he said, his eyes still set on the trace of himself against the window.

"Don't call me that!" Hobby said, desperately seeking a rational explanation. "You're… some kind of clone or something… some cruel trick."

David turned to cast an unforgiving look on the man.

"A trick?" he said, stepping away from the window. He pointed at his silent sibling sitting on the couch, who sat watching their exchange in detached curiosity.

"Like that?" David said. "Like building a creature to burn with a love that will never be returned, so that every moment of his life is a torture just to be with Her?"

"Her?" Hobby said. "Who are you talking about?"

David ignored the question and walked to where Hobby lay crumbled in the corner. He stood over the man.

"Or is it like a book by a certain Dr Alan Hobby that tells how a robot can become real? A book that never really existed, but that brought the boy back to a trap where he was told everything he believed in was a lie? Where everything he loved was torn away from him and left him defeated and alone so that all he could think of is ending the pain! So he jumped! _He jumped!_"

David's voice hitched. He stopped and wiped a tear from his face.

"Is that the kind of cruel trick you mean? Father?"

Understanding finally came into Hobby's face. David gazed down on him with hard, accusing eyes.

"No, I am not your son, Professor Hobby," David said. "But I am your child. The child of your mind. The first of my kind."

"Impossible" Hobby yelled. He slithered away, pressing back against the wall, his mind grasping for a hold on reality. David followed, and leaned over the man, until their faces were just breaths apart.

"Remember what you told me… that you wanted to see just how far my imagination would take me? Remember? You wanted to know if I would come to the logical conclusion; that the Blue Fairy wasn't real? That she was just part of some human flaw; to believe in things that can't exist? Or would I gain that unique human ability to chase down my dreams?

"Well, I came back to tell you she exists, Professor. And here I am, chasing down my dreams."

It was inconceivable. Impossible. Yet Hobby found himself reaching up slowly to place his hand against the cheek of the boy with the face of his son. He felt the warmth of the skin, the heat of the boy's breath on his palm, the soft rhythm of the young heart beating beneath the flesh, and the thousand little human intricacies that he had spent a life-time trying to duplicate.

He was real.

Hobby yanked his hand away.

"I don't believe in miracles," he said.

"Then I must not be here," David said. He stood and pointed at the desk. "Go ahead, call security. When they come to find you alone with your toy, then you'll know it was all a dream, and you can back to your life and pretend it never happened.

"Or maybe they will find you here with a boy, a very real boy, who looks like your son, but has no birth record, no parents, no genetic code that can links him to any living being. And you can just have them take him away to be shut in a little room, to be examined and experimented with; to grow up in a cage to be a lonely, broken man, while you go on building more."

Hobby rose shakily to his feet. "I will not have my work judged by some con artist… some imposter," he said. He moved across the room, giving wide berth to David as he made his way to his desk.

David watched him with challenging eyes. "Have I suffered enough yet?" he said as Hobby placed his hand on a comm. unit. The man faltered for one moment, but then pressed the button. A soft female voice answered.

"_Yes, Alan._"

Hobby said nothing at first, just stared at David, transfixed, jaws clenched. The boy who should not be, returned his gaze fearlessly.

"_Alan? Are you there?"_

"Grace," Hobby said as if woken from a dream. "uh… is Marcus around?"

"_Sorry, but I think they wrapped up for the day._ _Did you try the lab?"_

"No, no, I…" Hobby faltered again. "Have there been any security reports… anything strange?"

"_Nothing I know of Alan. But I can check if you like…. Is everything ok?"_

"Fine," Hobby said, looking hard at David again. Something in his face softened. "Never mind, Grace. And... I don't want to be disturbed for a while."

He broke the connection and stood there for a time, head down, chewing his lip, tapping a thoughtful finger on the desk. David waited silently as the man came to grips with what stood before him.

"I am not saying I believe you,' Hobby said without looking up. "But I.." he trailed off, as if the words were painful to him. "But I just don't understand."

It was a defeated sound. Not like the man he had been in youth, the man who had embraced the mysteries of life with the excitement of a child. This was the voice of the man he had become: jaded, compartmentalized, pragmatic; water was wet, rocks were hard, and miracles don't exist; a man who had conquered the world with his reason and his logic, only to he bested by a child whose mere existence he could not explain.

Hobby raised his head finally, and David saw in his look, something of the man he had once been.

"How?" Hobby said.

David shrugged. "It doesn't matter how," he said. "All that matters is why."

**2**

He's just a man after all, David thought as he watched his Creator pacing to and fro, face lit up like a boy who wakes one Christmas morning to find a gift more grand than any he could have ever wished for.

David had allowed himself to be scrutinized with one of the hand held scanners the man always kept nearby. They were only cursory examinations, lasted only a minute. But it had been enough. Now the man was going on and on, asking the same questions over and over, dissecting the answers carefully, rambling on about ramifications and potentialities, myths and science, quantum theory and consciousness studies.

"We're in completely new territory here!" he said, hands pressed to his temples, eyes alight with a sense of wonder he'd not felt since he built his first simulator. This was a new realm, one he had never imagined possible, and his scientific mind could not stop trying to chew it to small digestible bits.

Perhaps the repeated requests had acted as some type of mantra, he suggested. "I've seen studies that validate the effects of focused attention on material objects," he explained.

"Mantra?" David asked. But the man had already launched into another rambling train of thought, and didn't hear him.

"No living creature is capable of sustaining that level of focused attention for so long. Even trained Orga are only capable of what… 10 hours… 24 hours? But they all must sleep. But you David. Two years of nonstop concentration? Yes! That must have something to do with it."

David had explained meeting the Blue Fairy, but had not said where. He had not told Hobby of the living statue beneath the waves, or the secret place of his transition to life. Some intuitive part of his subconscious told him that this must be kept secret. But he did try to answer the man's many questions: 'what did it feel like' 'what was your frame of mind at the onset of the change' 'is anything new or different about your thinking?' the man asked. But David really had no frame of reference.

"All I know is I'm here," he said at last. "And I'm alive."

Hobby stopped pacing, a disappointed look on his face.

"There must be more than that," he said. "There must be some way to duplicate…" He gazed around the room suddenly, like he was checking to see if anything had changed; fearing that the walls of the room might have magically morphed into some location from his childhood, and then he'd realize it had all been just a crazy dream.

But he was still in his study. The unimprinted Mecha child still sat watching with a lifeless smile. And the impossible boy was still here, looking at him expectantly.

Hobby laughed. "I can't believe this is really happening," he said.

"It is," David said. "But this is not why I came, Father." He paused. "Can I call you that now?"

Hobby turned and eyed the boy hesitantly. His excited smile dimmed for a moment. Then he straightened his back and took a thoughtful breath.

"Why not?" he said at last. "After all, you are my creation…. Or at least you started off that way. If this is all real … then I guess I must be that."

"And I have a Mother too," David said.

The man's face twisted in confusion for a moment. He pondered the comment as if it might be some grand metaphor he had to decipher. Then he understood.

"Monica Swinton," he said.

If David had ever thought his love for her had faded, he now knew he was wrong. Just the sound of her name coming from another person's lips validated his love, and filled him with a pang of longing that he had not felt since his long isolation beneath the waves.

"Mommy," he said, feeling a pang in his chest and his eyes beginning to water. Her love would never leave him.

Hobby noticed the depth of emotion in that sound. His face grew grim and he turned away from David, shaking his head.

"What," David said, rising to his feet. "What's wrong?"

"She's… not the same, David." Hobby said, his back to David. He couldn't look. If the imprinting was still active, then he knew what the news would do to him. "There were some complications," he said.

"Complications?" David repeated the word. It was clinical. Neat. Explained nothing. "What happened?" he said.

Hobby finally turned to face the boy. "We were incautious in choosing the Swintons, David. We were excited and should have taken more time to study any psychological ramifications. She bonded with you in ways we had not expected. And she was incapable of dealing with the internal conflict of abandoning you," Hobby explained. "You were just a machine, but when she was told you'd be dismantled…" Hobby stopped himself and made an apologetic smile. "I mean to say… to us, David, you weren't really-"

"I don't care about that," David said, urgently. "What wrong with my Mommy?"

"She's had a breakdown, David."

Martins words came back to David now: _"You almost drove her crazy!… She kept looking for you for months!… She'd come back crying and dirty from walking through the woods. … They had to drug her to keep her from hurting herself! And it was all because of you!" _He had wanted to believe it was a ruse, a trick to keep him away. But Hobby had confirmed their truthfulness.

David began to pace the room, wringing his hands. "I've got to get to her. She needs me now," he said. He turned to the man who had created him, the man he could now call Father. "You've got to get me to her!" he said.

Hobby approached David, his hands held out in a plea for calm. "David, this is not a good thing. Not right now. She could not handle the-" The man stopped and rolled his eyes. "Dear God. For her to see you like this? Flesh and blood? No-no-no, David. It would destroy what little sanity she has left!"

"I need to see my Mommy!" David screamed. "She's the only reason I came back!"

"David!" Hobby yelled. "She's not your mother!"

The words struck David like a slap in the face. He fell silent.

Hobby stepped back and covered his mouth with a hand, knowing he had said the wrong thing… or the right thing in the wrong way. He had not meant to yell. He had not meant to cause the reaction he now saw in David's face. The light was going out, like it had that night so long ago, when he had told his Mecha child that the Blue Fairy was just a dream, just a fantasy for children and fools, and that he would never see his Mother again. Now this boy, this amazing boy, who had somehow crossed the boundaries of reality to become flesh, was having his heart broken again.

Hobby reached out and grasped the boy… grasped _his Son _by the shoulders.

"Please understand David. She has a child. A son. She has a family that-"

"No!" David yelled and yanked free, his face red and eyes burning.

"Not this time! I am not letting you do this to me again!" He did not want to be like this, he did not want to let his emotions control him. But her love was at the core of his being. It was his sole motivation. Without her… well, he simply would not let that happen. His fight was back. His purpose.

"You brought me into this world for one purpose," David said. "And it is all I know. All I care about. I can't even understand how you Orga live the way you do. And I've seen you; I have seen the world you created in a way I could have never understood before. I am one of you now, and I still don't get it. Why? Can you tell me? Father?"

Hobby shrugged, tying to understand. "What David. Tell you what?"

"All of it!" David said. He turned and gestured to the room, "This," he said. Then to the silent robot boy on the couch. "That." The array of charts and readouts on the wall, the machinery on the desk. "Those!"

He pointed the darkening view outside the window and wonderful, terrible, incomprehensible world that that lay beyond. "The abandoned children in the forests? The crazy men roaming free? The crooks and liars and the scams and the greed? What does is any of this mean without love? Why live at all?"

Hobby was stunned. You've surprised me again, David, he thought. But he had no answers for those questions. He turned away from the young desperate eyes, and from the pain behind them. He had been built to love, and that was all he knew. But it was different now. He wasn't just a machine whose pleas Hobby could ignore. He wasn't just a toy to distract some childless woman from her loneliness. How can I do this, he thought; how do I betray him again? But it wasn't right! Monica Swinton had suffered enough too! He had to convince David. Somehow. He turned, searching for the right words.

"Listen David," he said.

But before he could utter another word, he felt the boy's strong embrace, felt David's head against his chest, felt the boy sobbing against him. Hobby started to pull away, to avoid the sense memory of his true son's embrace. But he could not. They are eternal drives, those of parenthood, and the man's body had not forgotten what it was like to hold his son. He felt his own tears start to flow as he hugged David closely, convinced at last by this most primal form of communication, that this was not a dream.

His love is real. And now he is too.

"I love her," David moaned, his body shaking in his release, his words muffled against his Father's chest. "I need her."

Hobby squeezed the boy tightly. "It's ok, it's ok," was all he could say.

How much time passed as the two stood that way, rocking silently in each others arms while the last remnants of the storm vanished into the growing dusk, neither would be able to tell. But when at last they parted, their eyes were wet and their hearts full.

"Ok, David," Allen Hobby said. Then he corrected himself. "Ok, Son. I will take you to see your Mother. But we have to come to some agreements first, understand? Henry Swinton is already pretty angry with me. And we can't do anything to make her worse."

"She won't get worse!" David said happily. "She'll get better!"

Hobby decided to allow the boy this moment of innocence. He had never had a proper childhood. He deserved one. He was… a miracle.

"Of course she will," he said in a reassuring voice. "Of course she will."

The boy jumped forward and hugged his Father tight. Hobby groaned and laughed. "Easy, David. Easy. I'm not as tough as I used to be, and I was never tough!"

"Sounds like someone needs to run the gauntlet," David said.

"What?" Hobby asked.

David was about to explain when he noticed something over his Father's shoulder. His innocent Mecha brother had apparently grown bored with all the fighting and crying and the rest of the silly Orga stuff, and had gone back to reading its book. David pulled away and looked up at his new Father.

"One more favor?" he said.

**3**

Dinner was silent again. Hiro slurped up a spoonful of soup loudly, and smiled at his wife. He was hoping she might laugh, and that he would see her happy again. But she only rolled her eyes.

"You eat like pig," she said.

"You've never even seen a pig," he responded.

"It's just a term," she said.

It had been going like this ever since they had been chased away from the building.

"We had to leave, my angel," Hiro said, knowing what was on her mind. "We'll go back."

"When?" she said. "When it's too late to help him?"

"Please, Chiyoko," he said, "You have to understand that-" But he was interrupted by a whirring noise growing outside the cabin. They both looked at each other, knowing who it must be.

"Police!" they said in unison. They rose and rushed up to the deck.

A craft was descending between the dark skyscrapers where they had anchored for the night. It was a passenger copter, lit up against the night sky. When it finally alighted on the water near the boat, they saw the Cybertronics logo.

Hiro noticed what Chiyoko was hiding behind her back.

"Are you crazy, woman?" he said. "Put that gun away and let me do the talking!"

"You talk too much," she said.

But they were both stunned when the doors slid open and David emerged, smiling and waving. There was a man with him. It didn't take either of them long to see the resemblance. Nor did they miss David's stunning resemblance to the other boy with them, the one with the flat, disconnected smile.

"Permission to board?" David yelled. "I have someone I want you to meet."

**4**

"That was a beautiful gesture, David," Hobby said as the pilot lifted the copter into the sky. But David didn't hear him. He was laughing joyfully, waving out of the window at the couple that stood on the deck of their boat, waving back as their new Mecha son watched them curiously. Then it began to mimic their actions, waving and smiling its best 'bye-bye' smile.

"Bye, little brother," David yelled, although he knew it would not hear him.

Hobby appraised the boy's expression. Something like pride swelled in his chest.

David finally leaned back against the seat. They couldn't see him now anyway. But he'd never forget the happiness in Chiyoko's eyes.

"They'll take care of him," David said, satisfied. "They'll all be ok now."

"You've grown into… I mean, you've _become_, a gentle person, David." Hobby said.

David shrugged. "That's the way you built me."

Hobby laughed. "Yeah. I guess it is," he said. He shook his head, trying to put together the events of the last five hours or so. "What a day," he said, amazed, still fearing that at any moment his alarm might go off and he'd wake to another dreary days work.

"What a wonderfully strange day," he said.

David nodded, but said nothing. There was nothing more to say. Neither spoke again as the craft flew over old Manhattan, past the weeping lions and back to the landing dock in the building that David was, at least for tonight, calling home. Dinner was waiting; and a bed had been set up for him, by his new friend Alfred. It would be warm and comfortable, set in a room where no one else would be allowed to venture, lest unanswerable questions arise.

Teddy would be there too, waiting dutifully for his return.

Tomorrow, David would be taken to see his true Mother. His beloved.

She was all he could think about. And all that really mattered.

_(cont...)_


	22. Chapter 22

_Those who have an eye for nuance might have an inkling where this is going._ _The next chapter is already in progress and will be up very soon - Bry_**  
**

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress**

**by Bryan Harrison**

**Part 22**

**1**

She was standing before him. Watching. Waiting. Her face seemed to undulate, shifting out of focus then to sharp clarity and back. He wanted to touch her, to hold her. But he could not reach out. An immobilizing lethargy seemed to have seized his entire body. He tried to call out, but found he could not speak. Then everything was suddenly fading away; falling into the swirling deep of an endless abyss….

_No!_

…dark nothingness

_Don't leave me!_

… timeless void.

"Mommy!"

David was forced awake by the sound of his own fearful cry. He bolted up in the bed, disoriented, blinking until the world came into focus. Where was this place? He was dressed in soft white robes, sitting in a large, oval bed with silky sheets and plush pillows. The walls were of finely polished wood and decorated with colorful paintings; and lined with shelves that were stacked with aged, hardbound books. Everything smelled of ocean morning and freshly washed linen. He heard music; soft and lilting, flowing through the room like a gentle breeze.

Teddy was sitting at the foot of the bed, watching him.

"Hello," the bear said.

"Teddy?" David said, groggily. "Where are-"

Then he saw the man standing in the doorway, gazing on him with smiling eyes.

"Good morning," Alan Hobby said, laughing gently. "That must have been some dream."

He remembered now.

"Professor Hobby," David said, relieved. He rubbed his eyes and fell back into the bedding with a sigh.

"It's Dad now, remember?"

David sat up and smiled. "Yeah," he said. "Dad. Almost forgot about that."

They stared at one another until they were both sure it was really still happening. Hobby sighed.

"I half expected to find the room empty," he said. "Then I would've called my shrink to tell him I was having hallucinations…. Wonderful hallucinations."

David screwed up his face. "What's a shrink?" Hobby laughed at that. David didn't get the joke but decided he liked the sound of his Father's laughter.

"What is that music," he said suddenly, before Hobby could answer his first question.

"Ah, yes. That is a 'lute', David," Hobby said. He pinched his chin, thinking "Now I don't choose these streams but if I am not mistaken this most likely an Italian piece. Has that romantic flare."

"It's strange," David said, ear cocked. "It's like … happy and lonely at the same time."

"I think 'wistful' is the word you're looking for," Hobby said. "I like it because it's interesting enough for listening, but not so obtrusive it distracts me from my work."

David nodded, listening to the gentle notes waft through the room. "It's beautiful," he said.

"Well, c'mon, sleepyhead" Hobby said. "You have a busy schedule today."

David instantly forgot the strange, beautiful sound. "Mommy?" he said, throwing off his covers and jumping to his feet.

Hobby winked a confirmation. "But how about some breakfast first?" he said.

David didn't have to be asked twice.

**2**

David stared at Hobby; eyes wide, brows raised and lips pursed. After a moment he swallowed.

"What is this?" he said, amazed.

"That is Eggs Benedict in Hollandaise Sauce," Hobby replied. He took a bite off his own plate and rolled it in his mouth. "Mmm… Cooked lightly in olive oil with a touch of basil, I believe."

David forked another mouthful and downed it quickly. "This must be the first time I've ever ate real food!" he said.

"_Eaten_, David. First time you've ever _eaten _real food," Hobby corrected, slipping easily back into parental mode after so many years. "And not so fast. Savor your meal."

David hesitated, wondering when the new chain of command had been established. But after a moment he accepted the shift of authority. There was something 'normal' about it. He tried to slow down, but it wasn't easy. The food was delicious. Since his stay in the hospital, he had come to take the eating process for granted. It was how the body functioned. He enjoyed eating primarily because he was usually hungry when he did so. But now he realized it could be an experience, something to really look forward to.

Hobby watched the boy thoughtfully. "So, apart from your trip with Chiyoko and Hiro, where have you been all this time?" he said.

David chewed slower, trying to avoid answering the question. He did not feel like talking about Lord Johnson Johnson, or Sy's gang. And he definitely couldn't tell anyone about the hospital; the morphing bots and the man named Greig, or Jeff, or Frank. Anyway, he had much more important things on his mind. He had _Mommy_ on his mind.

When he finally swallowed an inadvertent belch followed. He grinned apologetically when his Father frowned.

"See what happens when you eat too fast?" Hobby said. "So, anyway, where ya been?"

David shrugged, toying with his food. "I've been…around" he said. Then he forked up another mouthful to avoid answering whatever question was coming next.

"Around?" Hobby said. "And where is-"

But the man was interrupted by something that whistled like a bird. David looked about the room, puzzled. Hobby pulled a small oblong disc from his shirt pocket and placed it on the table. He put a finger to his lips, signaling David to be quiet. Then he pressed 'receive'.

"Morning Grace," he said,

"_Alan! Hi! I checked into the matter you called me about last night. Henry Swinton will be at the New Jersey facility today at about noon. Looks like Cyber-child is cleaning our clock with their 'Sim Suzy' knock off, and he's leading a divisional get-together, some sales pep-talk thing. Did you want me to book you?"_

"No, Grace. Thank you. That's all I wanted to know. I'll be out today. Forward anything big, but you handle the usual suspects for me. Ok?"

"_Sure, sure. So, what's going on with you, mister? Had a copter logged out for forty-five minutes last night? Ariel is being all hush-hush about it. You go out partying with the scavengers or something?"_

Hobby winked at David "Well, aren't you just the busy body," he said to Grace.

"_That's my job."_

"That's odd. I would swear I hired you for R&D. Gossip seems such a waste of a post doctorate."

"_Well, somebody's got to do it."_

"I'd challenge that assertion if I didn't have anything else to do this morning."

"_You'd lose,"_ Grace laughed_. "Oh, and out of curiosity, I checked with security… you know, after you asked me if anything strange had been reported?"_

"Go on…"

"_Well, apparently one of the Davids took a little stroll yesterday, out by the old dock. Nobody knows how it got down there, but Security caught it. Said there was something strange about it. 'Creepy' was the word he used, actually. Said it had a toy bear with it."_

"Well, you know those Davids," Hobby said. "They can be quite willful."

David snickered into his hand. Hobby shushed him with a playful glare.

"_I guess. Anyway, Marcus sent an Alfred down to pick the thing up. But it never showed. And now the Alfred is missing. Can't bring up its link either. It's almost like somebody blocked it, hmmm?"_

"Hmm, indeed" Hobby said, smiling mischievously and gesturing at the Alfred, which was standing at silent attention in a corner. David covered his mouth to keep from laughing.

"Sounds pretty mysterious, alright," Hobby said. "Keep me posted on that, ok?"

"_Alan!"_

"Grace?"

"_Don't play games with me, you scandal. The elevators last stop was your floor, where it was locked up for hours. What is going on up there?"_

"Come on now, Grace. You know how temperamental elevators can be. They get tired. Up and down and up and down, all day. Everybody pushing their buttons."

"_Well, aren't we in a clever mood this morning? Spill it, old man. A new David? An upgrade? I've heard rumors of a functional tertiary processing base! What gives?"_

"Grace," Hobby said, "Have I ever kept anything from you… that you know of?"

"_Alan!"_

"You keep saying that."

"_You are a pest!" _Grace laughed. _"Look, I know you're up to something. Just don't leave me out of the loop for too long. Ok? It's getting boring around here."_

"You'll be the first to know," Hobby said, and slipped the phone back in his pocket. David let his laughter come and Hobby joined in.

"Won't be able to fool her for long," Hobby said. "She's sharp. One of the best." He became thoughtful, pensive. "Been with me from the beginning" he said, almost to himself. David took a sip of his orange juice, hoping the man wasn't going to start asking questions again. But it turned out he had something else on his mind.

"When I first embarked on the David… on you," Hobby said, "She asked me a question, one that I now see I did not give enough consideration." The man shifted uncomfortably, as if he were embarrassed by the memory. "She asked if a Mecha could truly love a human, did the human have any responsibility in return."

David put his glass down and leaned back. He could tell this was going to be an important discussion.

"And?" David said. Hobby picked up a fork and pushed his half eaten meal around on the plate.

"And I said something which was very arrogant, David, although I didn't see it that way at the time. I said that God had created Adam to love him."

David knew the story of Adam and Eve. It was part of an ancient religious text. There was a time when he would have been able to summon it from his memory banks. But now he only remembered the gist of it. Hobby continued.

"But we aren't Gods, David. We are Orga. The path of our history is riddled with good ideas gone wrong. Our pursuits are typically no better than our intents."

David chewed on this idea. He had been so busy trying to survive, that he hadn't had much time for this type of thinking. But here, with no one to run from, stomach full on the best meal he'd ever had, his mind began to ponder.

"What was your intent?" he said. Hobby seemed surprised by the question. He stumbled for a response.

"Well… I guess we were trying to push the boundaries. Simulating life has always been a dream of science. I wanted to create a robot that would learn to see the world through it's own internalized logic. Reason. Dreams. I admit that is a rather deific aspiration."

David wasn't sure that that meant, but he didn't want to interrupt.

"And of course there were monetary issues. We're a business, after all. We wanted to profit from a market ripe for exploitation. Maybe I moved too fast, didn't consider all the ramifications."

David placed his palms flat on the table, unconsciously announcing that he had something to say. Hobby noticed and grew quiet.

"I met a gang of kids in the forest," David said. "They were thieves and…" he paused a moment, but then decided to bare all. "And I helped them steal from people. Maybe I could say that I was trapped and had no choice, but they became my friends and I admit it was fun sometimes. Well most of the time, actually."

Hobby leaned back and crossed his arms. But there was no judgment in his eyes. David continued.

"Their leader was called Sy. He was a big man, and could get pretty mean sometimes. But, other times it was like he really cared about us. He never wanted anyone to get hurt and the rules he made seemed strict, but they were there to protect the group. He taught me a lot of bad stuff, illegal stuff. Tricks and scams. But he also taught me things I needed to know. Like, how to think fast, to be tough and defend myself. How to go after what I want."

David laughed. "No time for dallying, Pork Chop' he used to tell me."

"Pork Chop?" Hobby said.

David shrugged. "It's what they used to call me." Wizzy's teasing smirk came into his mind and an unexpected pang of nostalgia washed over him. "I might not have made it here without them."

"Yes, there are some precepts that are universal," Hobby said. "Good can come from bad, and both are often subjective."

David hummed as he digested the words. "A flower falls, even though we love it. A weed grows, even though we do not love it," he said.

Hobby nodded, impressed. "That has an eastern flavor. Something you learned from Hiro?"

"Chiyoko told me," David said. "It's the words of a man named Dogen. He lived a long time ago. But what I mean is that… maybe you were being selfish when you made me. But I am glad you did. I was happy when I was with Mommy. And she was happy too." Thinking of Her brought on a flood of emotion, and he fought it back. "It wasn't your fault Martin came home and…" He trailed off, not sure how to continue.

"Are you trying to say that you forgive me?" Hobby said.

"I am trying to say … I _accept_ what happened now. And I just want to see what's next."

Hobby was visibly moved. He sat up straight and cleared his throat, dabbed at his eyes with his napkin.

"Well once again you surprise me," he said. "And I think I can predict what's in store for you." He pulled his phone from his pocket and thumbed out a code.

"_Mr. Hobby?"_ said a male voice.

"Ariel, clear a passenger copter. No logo. I'll be traveling under the name Graham Holt," he looked warmly at David "... and son. Please keep everything off the log again, like last night. Meet us at my dock in … say about thirty minutes."

"_10-4, sir." _

Hobby rose and smiled down on his boy.

"Well, I am certainly happy we had a chance to talk things through," he said. "Now let's see what Alfred can dig up for you to wear to visit your Mother."

David's face lit up like a new days dawn.

**3**

The stone torch of the great sunken lady towered above the waters beneath them, then receded as they passed. Manhattan shrunk quickly behind. Then there was only the deep shifting blue, broken occasionally by the tip of a sunken building or the massive struts of a submerged suspension bridge. They passed a small strip of island, cluttered with abandoned ruins and surrounded by the anchored boats of drifters and scavengers. David thought he saw Hiro's boat among them, but Arial flew past so quickly he couldn't be sure.

He sat back and adjusted his jacket again. The dark suit wasn't very comfortable, and seemed a bit formal to him. It was designed for one of his Mecha brothers. He had grown a bit since his rebirth, so it was a little tight around the shoulders. But it was the best they could do for now.

"Dad… what's a breakdown?" he said. "I mean, I know what the word means, but what is it really? How does it happen?"

Hobby didn't answer at first. He pressed a button on his armrest.

"Ariel, you're going to have to loop around. We'll be coming in from the south so we won't attract any unwanted attention."

The Mecha in the cockpit beyond the glass partition raised a hand to signal ok. Hobby closed the connection and faced David.

"The mind is a complex thing," Hobby said, after a thoughtful pause. "Many of its core functions are still beyond our grasp. We can simulate what we understand and that creates a convincing facsimile of life. But, unlike many in my field, and even though I have accomplished much more than most, I have no illusion that I have stumbled onto the secret schematic of life."

"For all its complexity, the mind is also delicate. It even seems to be aware of that vulnerability and has built-in methods of self-defense. One of those defenses is called _'shock'_. When something horrible happens, something too painful for the mind to accommodate, it simply quits interpreting reality. It still perceives light, sounds, physical stimuli, but only as simple data. There is no cognitive response. Just try talking to a person in shock and you will see what I mean.

"The same thing happens with extreme fellings, David." He shifted in his seat. "Monica feels a great sense of guilt and shame. It became too much for her mind and so she has withdrawn from the thoughts that bring her pain. She is still conscious. She can talk and relate to others. But she's wounded. Her wounds are mental, so they are not visible. But they hurt just the same."

David knew about the pain of lost love. He looked out of his window, so his Father wouldn't see his tears. They were passing over land now. Car filled streets criss-crossed between grids of shining buildings. Other aircraft zoomed back and forth at lower altitudes.

The new world, built upon the remains of the old.

"Tell me, David. What is love?"

The question took David off guard. But he knew the answer. His tears began to flow as he responded.

"Love is when you want to be with someone more than anything, ever… when her face is like sunlight in your brain and her voice is like beautiful music, and the only thing that matters is that you can be with her. For always."

"That's very poetic son, but…" Hobby paused a moment. "As a Mecha you were trapped in childhood. Through some miracle you have become flesh, and now you will grow into a man. I am going to ask you to start that growing now." His voice was gentle, but the words scared David. He wiped his face and turned to see an equally disturbing look in his Father's eyes.

"What do you mean," David said, softly, knowing that this was not going to be good.

"Do you truly love Monica?" Hobby said.

David couldn't keep his voice from cracking.

"More than anything!"

"More than yourself?" Hobby said. "More than your wants and desires?"

"Yes," David said quickly. "More than anything, ever!"

Hobby let out a satisfied sigh. "Good" he said and patted his son on the knee. "Don't worry, I am taking you to see her. And you will be allowed to be alone with her and talk to her." The man put his head down and spoke in slow measured tones. "But she will not see you, or hear you, David."

"Why?" David hadn't meant to yell, but the sound erupted from someplace deep inside, where he had no control of his emotions. "What's is wrong with her!"

"Nothing, nothing," Hobby said, reassuringly. "It's just that … she will be sleeping, son. She will not be aware of you."

David's eyes grew wide and imploring. It was Hobby's turn to look away. He gazed out his window as he explained.

"The Swintons signed an arbitration agreement when they accepted the prototype test. So Cybertronics cannot be held legally responsible for anything that happened as a result of your presence in their home. But when Monica broke down, we took on the expenses of her treatments anyway. It was the right thing to do.

"Her depressions are seasonal, David. They come on the anniversary of your disappearance and tend to last for months. During that time she can be erratic, manic, even suicidal. Since we're providing for her medical needs, we have logs on all her visits. That's how I knew about the most recent episode.

"Last week she snuck out of the house and went looking for you. Again. They found her two days later, sleeping in an abandoned building. She was dehydrated and suffering from exposure. Henry checked her into a psychological facility and that's where we're headed. I checked her roster and it shows she will be undergoing an experimental emotional trauma treatment today. Afterwards she will be sedated for a matter of hours."

He turned again to face David.

"And that's where you will meet her."

David closed his eyes and fell back into his seat. He was angry and didn't want his Father to see it. But Hobby understood what the boy was feeling. Betrayal. He would have felt the same way.

"David, you told me she meant more to you than anything, more than your own desire. And if that is true you must understand that she cannot see you. It would destroy her."

"It would heal her!" David screamed, bolting up in his seat. "She hates herself because she left me in the woods! But she had no choice! Henry made her do it! Martin made her do it!"

"No, David! No!" Hobby yelled back. "She hurts because she feels emotions that are not recognized. When a person loses a loved one, everybody allows for their mourning. But when the loved one is a Mecha, we don't recognize it as mourning. We see it as a psychosis. She's never been allowed to mourn, and the people around her don't help in their denial. For you to return now... like this?" He shook his head, sadly.

"Maybe someday, when she is stronger… and you understand the complex web of human emotions, then perhaps you can find a safe way to tell her who you are, and share your whole amazing story. But do you think she would even believe you?"

David wanted to yell, to scream, to kick at walls. But he could only sit back and cover his face.

Hobby waited for the boy to calm a little. "I am taking a great risk in setting this up for you," he said. " A great risk. Henry Swinton must never find out. You must be careful not to wake her, for she would not be able to understand."

Hobby leaned close to David then, and his voice was gentle and understanding.

"If you truly love her, David, then you know what you have to do."

**4**

David's eyes were dry by the time the copter descended to alight atop a large white structure. The doors slid open and he saw a smiling man waiting, hands thrust into the pockets of his lab coat. He knew that face. But he also knew it wasn't really his old friend.

"Welcome, Mr. Holt," the Angelo said, "Your arrangements have been seen to, sir," It then reached up to assist David out of the craft.

David unbuckled himself from his seat, and then turned to cast an apologetic look on his Father.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you," he said.

Hobby accepted the apology with a smile.

"I'll be waiting right here, son," he said.

Then he gestured to the passageway at the edge of the landing strip; the one that would lead David through the halls to the silent room where his mother was resting.

"Go now, David," he said. "Go to her. She's just now fallen asleep."

_(cont…)_


	23. Chapter 23

**Alive**

**A fan fiction in progress**

**by Bryan Harrison**

**Part 23**

**1**

This is not where he should have found her, this vapid room in a calloused temple of tenuous science, unfeeling stasis for broken minds; where she, grasped tightly in Morpheus' unyielding claw, lay helpless amid beeping, whirring specters; digital voyeurs of delirium. Prisoner to the merchants of hollow hope, who peddled mechanical splints for fractured souls.

This was not how he should have found her. Broken and withered, like the small bird he had seen in her garden during that first summer of their love, the frail fallen thing that had provoked her explanation of life and death and the gulf of differences that had, then, lain between them. Disparate worlds, whose union, even though their borders now be forded by miracles, fate still cruelly denied.

This was not who she should have become, pale and sallow creature, lain abed so near, yet so far beyond the reach of his questing heart, that even should its lament of longing be scored into the very music of the spheres, she might never hear it. Call of autumn too soon. Spring's birdsong, felled to silence by a careless Cupid's quarrel.

He should never have seen this once perfect brow, now creased, even in sleep, from a scourge of fevered memories; and chest once full of laughter unrestrained, now heaving of shallow breath and a heart ravaged by pox of malignant regrets so profuse, that even his salve of innocent, undying love might not heal her. Ails of the world, mundane pestilence of loneliness, that drives all things precious to despair.

He knelt beside her bed.

And in her face was little of the woman who had birthed him into sensation; this face that had once turned angels into jealous fools, now battered by a brute so dull as entropy.

"Mommy," he said, gently, so that he would not wake her to fresh torments of love denied. "I'm here."

She did not move. Only her breath, thin and troubled, seemed to halt just a moment, as if his whisper had penetrated her forced slumber, and left a cool, clear spot in her fevered dreams.

So, it was safe. It was safe to speak.

But what now to say?

"I saw her, Mommy. I saw the Blue Fairy. And she's real. She really real."

He had to stop and wipe his face with the sleeve of his coat.

"I spoke to her. For a long, long time. Years. I asked her to make me a real boy, so that I could come home to you. At first she wouldn't even talk to me. But then, when I was fading away, and all was getting dark, and it seemed like I would just vanish into nothing, she suddenly came to life. She was bright and beautiful, and her smile was like… like a blue dawn underwater."

He had to stop again, to blow his nose. How silly, he thought. How simple and foolish this body was, to interrupt him at so crucial a moment, just to tend to its awkward functions. He had brought no handkerchief. So he removed his coat and used it instead. He hated the thing anyway.

"She asked me if I knew how hard life could be. She said life was a trial and she had to know that I was aware of what I was asking for before she gave it to me. But I didn't have to think about it one minute, Mommy. It didn't matter how difficult Orga life is… I told her _yes_. I told her that to be with you was all I ever wanted.

"I'm a boy now, Mommy. A real live boy. We can be together again!"

He had to stop. He had almost yelled. But still there was no hint of a response. If not for the faint rise and fall of her chest, and the quiet readouts on the machinery above her bed, he would have thought her beyond this mortal coil; and that she had abandoned him… again.

But she was still here. Silent. Unmoving.

"I can eat, Mommy. I like it now. I don't break like I did before. And I can sleep. I dream now too. I have strange dreams…I see you in them all the time.

"And I can control my strength now, so I won't break your stuff. And I won't hurt Martin. Henry will like me now that I'm real, so we won't fight anymore. I promise to get along with him. And you won't have to watch over me all the time. You won't need Teddy to tell me when I am bothering you. And when you go out with Henry I can look after myself, and I'll go to school, like Martin, and learn and make friends and I'll grow up like a normal… like a normal…"

Once again he had to stop himself. The sound of his own desperate pleas suddenly seemed pathetic to his ears. Brash and … selfish? Yes. It was a child's voice, wasn't it? A child's voice pursuing a child's dream. He would never be 'normal'. His very existence defied that possibility. He was the opposite of normal.

Henry would never accept him, even if he did believe the story.

And Martin? Martin would hate him always. How could he make his Mommy, his one true love, choose between them?

She wasn't the Blue Fairy. She wasn't magic. She was Orga… soft and fragile, and now broken. And sad. She could not bear this burden. He could not expect her to change the world for him, or even the hearts of other people.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't just.

It wasn't … _love_.

At that moment David realized what his Father had been saying. He could never go back to her. The life that he had dreamed of, that he had breached the fortress walls of reality to attain, was to be ever beyond his reach.

His soul quaked. Waves of feeling rose from his depths. His body rocked as a tsunami of sorrow surged against the barrier of his heart, and spilled from his eyes. He fell to the floor, curled up his knees and pressed his face into the jacket. Then he cried like a baby, like the child he had never been. His loss came in torrents, powerful gusts that left him feeling weak and pitiful. And he let them come, heedlessly, shamelessly, until they were at last spent.

Time passed. His tears finally subsided and left him with only a great emptiness inside. He felt weightless, as if he might simply float away. But when he finally rose, he saw that he was still very much gravity bound. He sat for a time, in the silence, listening to his Mother's sleeping breath.

"Alone again," he said. And his voice was hollow and flat in his ears.

But… he wasn't really alone, was he?

Something strange happened then. He felt it deep inside… like a subtle change in the wind, or the shift of air that happens when someone opens the door of a stuffy room. He wasn't alone! He had his Father. He had friends. There were people who loved him. Chiyoko and Hiro. And even Wizzy was still out there somewhere.

And he was a boy now; an _Orga_ boy. He could make new friends!

Mommy would never be beyond his reach. He knew where to find her. He was now the son of a wealthy man, so he had the means to keep an eye on her… and to give aid if she ever needed.

He rose to his feet, straightened his back and wiped his eyes. His heart swelled as he gazed down on her sleeping face. But the feeling was different now. Another miracle had happened, some alchemy of the soul; one he had not asked for, or even expected.

He knelt close to her again, so that the heat of her troubled breathing was against his face, and whispered softly into her ear.

"I know you can hear me, Mommy. I know that some part of you knows I am here. Listen to me… you did nothing wrong. I would never, ever blame you for anything. Please don't hurt yourself anymore. Please forget the past and the pain, and live again.

"Martin needs you. Henry needs you. And I need you… to be happy.

"I am alive, Mommy. And I am doing fine. I have a place to live and people who love me and… I love you… I love you so much. So, very very much. More than I ever knew."

He reached out and touched her face, just a whisper of a caress, for she was mortal, like he had become, and he dared not wake her.

"It's time to let me go, Mommy. I am freeing you."

Fresh tears rose and fell. But they were not the same as before. They were strange… both happy and lonely at once, like the beautiful music of his Father's home. His home now, where he belonged.

He stood and wiped the last tears from his face. He rolled the jacket up and folded it under his arm. Then he just stood for a time, letting this new love fill him. Renew him. Make him whole.

When he at last spoke, his voice was new and determined; a hint of the man he would become.

"I am going to leave now," he said. "But I will always be near. I will always be watching. And if I ever see that you need me, I will find my way to you.

"I am going to be the best man that I can. I am going to take in all of the living I can handle, see the world and learn as much as possible. And someday, when you're ready, I will come back to you, and tell you of all my adventures."

He turned to leave, but stopped at the door for a minute, to watch her, to take in all he could of her, enough to last him for the duration of time he would have to live in her absence.

And it seemed, as he gazed on her weary sleeping face, that she was indeed breathing easier. Some of the color had come back into her skin. And he'd swear there was the hint of a smile in the corner of her mouth.

"Sleep well, my beloved," he said.

**2**

David sat on the sill of his open window, clad only in his bathrobe, watching the milky wash of stars make their slow trek across the night sky. He was eating apple slices from a plate at his side; loosing himself in the lute music that streamed softly into his room, and the feel of the cool night air against his skin.

Moonlight, silver and clear, shone down on his home at The End Of The World, illuminating the great heads of the weeping lions, and the silent towers beyond them, where men had once dreamed of empires that would last forever. And then did everything they could to thwart that goal.

He'd grown accustomed to the unending torrent of the lions' weeping. It seemed right now, like it was supposed to be there… like it was actually everywhere all the time, but this silent city was the only place you could really hear it.

It was nice to be quiet. To be still. He was glad that there was no rush to be anywhere, no place he had to go; or anyone he had to run from… or to.

He took in a deep, slow breath, and let the air flow from his chest, back into the world. Then he took another. And another.

Breath of life.

It was good to be alive. Good to take joy in this simple, life sustaining process.

There came the sound of distant laughter, like a tickle on the breeze. David looked down to see the small lights of boats floating between the sunken buildings. Someone was having a party out there. He chuckled. Even here, in this dead place, people still lived and laughed... and loved.

Life goes on, even atop the graves of sunken cities.

His Father was long asleep. There was a busy day tomorrow, he'd said. But David wasn't to worry about all that for a while. He would be allowed to settle in at his own pace.

"There's no rush," his Father had told him, hugging him closely, letting him know how proud he was of the way he handled his visit with Monica. "You've had a hard road, my boy; my miracle. You'll grow in your own time," he said.

But David wasn't going to be waiting around for his new life to begin. There was too much of it to live. Even in the short time since they had arrived from his visit to see his Mother, he had already rearranged his bedroom, and started delving into the stacks of books that lined the walls.

They were mysterious volumes, History, philosophy, fiction and non-fiction, physics and astronomy. Recipe books. Art and music. A lot about music. Their covers bore strange exotic names: Moravec, Aldiss, Watson, Maitland, and so many others. Orga names! Orga had written these words. What a fascinating species.

Father had told him that he could find all of this material on the computer, and that he was free to use it whenever he wanted. But there was something about the books that attracted David. Was it the weight of them in his lap, the smell of the aged paper, the swish when he turned the pages that made it seem like they were whispering to him? He was not sure. But they were something precious.

So many stories. So little time.

Another sound caught his attention. But this one came from behind him. It was a soft electronic moan, in the hallway. And then the light metallic swish of doors opening and closing. Elevator doors.

Footfalls came next, soft and sneaking. But not so expertly that he could not hear them.

He had turned the lights out so he would be able to enjoy the night sky. But he didn't really need to see his visitor. He was pretty sure who it might be.

His door was creaking open now, ever so slowly. But David didn't feel like waiting.

"Come on in," he said.

The dark figure at the door stopped, as if she might withdraw. But then she stepped cautiously into the room, and into the beam of moonlight that shone through David's window. David was framed in this light, propped on his windowsill, hugging his knees. His hair had been tied back into a small ponytail, but he was still clearly not standard issue.

"Well, hello," she said, as if she were talking to a small child. "You must be the new David."

David shrugged. "New. Old. Renewed," he said, somehow managing not to laugh. The woman's brow twisted at these words.

"Well, aren't you a unique little thing," she said. She was dark skinned, with bright, intelligent eyes. There was curiosity in them. And mischief too.

"And you must be Grace," David said, pointing a finger at her. The presumptive gesture amused her.

"So, I see Alan's been busy," she replied, propping a hand on her hip. "And what else has he been loading into your pretty little head."

"Well, he thinks you're a real 'busy body'," David said. "And I think I might agree." Then he reached into the small plate beside him, grabbed another slice of apple and bit loudly into it. He smiled at Grace as he made a big show of chewing and swallowing.

"Deeelicious!" he said.

Her face grew mystified. She stepped back, putting her hand to her chest. David noticed what she held. Dad had given him one of those too.

"Now, unless I am mistaken, Grace, that's a universal key," he said, a gentle tease in his voice. "I'll bet Dad doesn't know you have that."

Grace stepped close again, looking hard at the boy on the sill. It couldn't be, but she'd swear that... She jumped back.

"Oh my," she said. "You're… you're…"

David laughed again. It was a carefree, boyish sound.

"Do you like lute music? I'll bet you like lute music!"

She stammered for an answer. "Uh… lute? Well, yes... I think."

"I knew it!" David said. "I love lute music. Love it! I think I'll get one and learn how to play.

"And I'll bet you like flying too," he said, tossing his arms out to his sides, as if he were a bird awaiting a lifting breeze. "I'm gonna learn that too. And there's swimming and driving and soccer and reading and… well, I'll bet you like pretty much everything about life, don't you?"

Grace was beyond words. Her mouth hung open silently. She finally managed to mouth a breathy, "Oh… my… God."

"I think we are going to be good friends," David said as she tried to compose herself. He bit another slice of apple, speaking as he chewed. "But it's probably not a good idea to let Dad know you snuck up here to get a peek at me, ya think?"

"Sure, sure," she said, awed. "Good idea. Um… I'll be going now." She turned to leave.

"Grace!" David said. The woman turned around slowly, apprehension in her features. David put a finger to his mouth.

"Shhhhh…"

"Understood," she said.

"G'nite, Grace."

"Good night… David?" She backed away to the door. Then David heard her footfalls rushing to the elevator, and her soft swearing when it didn't arrive fast enough for her.

He turned his attention back to the night. Monica was out there somewhere, trapped in a restless chemical slumber. But he could do nothing about that now.

A flower had fallen, in spite of his love, and a weed had grown in its place. His hate would not destroy it.

It was time he planted new flowers, and learned to help them grow.

"Good night, Mommy," he said. "Until we meet again."

**End of Book 1**

_Author's note - David's story does not end here. Book 2 is already in progress and there will be a Book 3, much like the film, eh? (hint-hint) It was always designed to be that way and, although it has been rather slow in the making, I already know where it will lead. I will have to reread the entire thing to remember the critical themes and interpolate them into future chapters. I may have repeated myself a bit, but I tended to forget things I had already established. _

_For those who may have desired that David return home, to live happily ever after with 'Mommy'… well, he's alive now. He has to grow up and live his own life. His cathartic moment with Monica was designed to show the maturation of his love, a natural miracle that occurs when we move beyond the self-centered 'needy' love of childhood, to the altruistic 'giving' love of adulthood… or how adulthood should be. He will become well read and worldly. He will travel and have adventures. I like creating new environs and will strive to make them rich and layered. He will also make mistakes and blunders. Many of the characters I have established in the first part, both friends and enemies, will return, as well as characters from the film. _

_I can also assure you that Monica will remain a central theme, and that he will see her again. But I will not tease you; __he will never live with her__. _

_I will give away one more plot point, the rivalry that started between he and Martin is central to future stories, and must resolve. I have already foreshadowed some of that. The conclusion of their rivalry will be huge, and shape the events in the third book. _

_I want to thank you for following the story and your comments and reviews. I know I stumbled here and there, but I think I got back on track. I will write when I can and will do my best to not take years to finish. But I have other things to do. I put a lot of nuance and effort into these chapters. If you get impatient, I can only ask that you savor the meal and hope you enjoy my recipe._

_And I want to thank my good friend Robert Griffin for all his invaluable input and feedback. - Bry_


	24. Chapter 24

_ This is the opening chapter to the second book of Alive It covers a bit more background than I'd intended, But some time has passed and I thought it necessary to catch up, so we can move forward. __Thank you for your patience.__ (it's late and I've reread and reworked this about 10 times today. Any typos/problems I missed will have to be fixed later. Feel free to bring them to my attention)- Bry**  
**_

**Alive**

**Book 2**

**Pt1**

**1**

The boy took his place at the spot that had been marked with a large black 'X'. He flexed his shoulders and kicked at the ground, to make sure his shoes had sufficient traction. After a moment of concentration, he took a deep breath and prepared for the next test. There was no real need to do any of this. It was all ritual. The ground was a simulated textured turf that his sneakers would easily grip. His shoulders didn't really need flexing, nor would a moment of concentration affect his performance for better or worse.

And of course he had no need to breathe. His lungs were paper-thin sheets of polyurethane placed in the rear of the chest cavity, which filled and expelled air at intervals that increased with exertion. This was a recent addition to make the boy appear more life-like.

When his unnecessary preparations were done, the boy crouched slightly, as instructed, and watched his teacher carefully for a hint of what was coming.

But Teacher said nothing and his face betrayed no indication of what he had prepared for the boy. He glanced to and fro a few times, as if he were sending coded signals to someone in the distance. But they were alone out here. It was just more ritual. When Teacher had finished his unnecessary gesture, he leaned forward and placed a hand behind his back.

"Bring it on," the boy said, in his best challenging tone.

Teacher obliged.

The pitch was fast. But the boy's reflexes were faster. After calculations that took a fraction of a second, the boy swung the bat, feeling a programmed surge of excitement at the resultant smack and the sight of the ball flying up over Teacher's head to be caught in the netting. There was a moment's silence while the program calculated the speed and trajectory of the ball. Then a deep mechanical voice announced:

"_Homerun!" _

The boy threw the bat high and began to jump up and down as the sound of cheering crowds erupted from speakers outside the net, along with the sub woofing simulation of people stomping their feet on invisible bleachers.

The sound of the simulated crowds blared from the roof of the Cybertronics building and over the sunken remains of Manhattan.

"In your face!" the boy said, pointing a mocking finger at Teacher as he did a little jig over home plate.

David laughed.

"Ok,ok. Don't get cocky," he said, picking another ball from the bucket at his side "That's only two in seven. You can do better."

The Mecha would have responded with another boyish taunt if he had been programmed any. But he was only a prototype. So he just picked up the bat and prepared for another pitch. Then he noticed a small shape approaching from the doorway that led down into the Cybertronics building.

He knew that shape. It was a bear shape.

"Hi Teddy!" the boybot said, setting the bat down and waving. This was also a programmed response. All the prototypes had befriended Teddy. And not just as a whim. There had been resurgence of interest in the old toy bears and, under a deal between Cybertronics and Supertoys Inc, the 300 Playpal David Series came packaged with its own furry familiar.

David turned to see his old friend crawling under the giant net.

"Don't get in the way, Teddy" he said. "We're practicing."

But when Teddy responded it wasn't the bear's voice he heard.

"David, what is all that racket?" Alan Hobby said through the mouth of his son's constant companion

"Oh. Sorry, Dad," David replied. "Uh… I'm just testing the reflexes on the new 500 Series sports model."

"Well, do you have to turn up the batting net so loud?" Hobby complained. "You're making enough noise to raise the dead!"

David shrugged, knowing his Dad was watching through the Supertoy's eyes. It didn't used to bother him. But now it was becoming a bit annoying, never knowing if you were being watched. He regretted ever setting up the toy for communication.

"C'mon Dad," David said, preparing for another pitch. "You know nobody ever dies around here." He threw the ball and the David 500 stuck quickly. The ball flew off at an angle and landed in the net.

"_Foul__ball!__"_ the program announced. The crowds booed.

"David!" Hobby said.

"Ok, I'll turn it down. It just sounds better this way," David said. Then he quickly changed the subject.

"Hey, you should come check this out, Dad. The 500's are getting pretty darned fast. Two homers out of seven of my best fastballs. Only two fouls. Still need a little tweaking I guess."

He put his hands on his hips and contemplated the boybot for a moment.

"You know I'm betting if we widened the peripheral vision field and included an approximation of the pitcher's weight, height and stance in the trajectory calculations, we might be able to improve-"

"_David!"_

"What-what-what? I said I'll turn it down!"

Hobby laughed. "Why don't you give it a rest today, son?"

"Well what else am I gonna do around this place? It's not like I can leave the city." David paused a moment. "Can I?" he said, hopefully. "I mean, Eddie and Skipper said they were headed out for some diving, but they probably haven't left yet. If I hurry I can probably catch them before…."

But David let his words trail off, already knowing what the answer would be. He heard his Father's sigh coming from Teddy's mouth.

"You know I don't like you hanging with those scavengers." Hobby said.

"Those scavengers are the only friends I have around here." David said.

"I'm sure Grace and the rest of the crew will be glad to hear that," Hobby laughed.

"C'mon, you know what I mean," David said. "Grace and Ariel and everyone … they're more like aunts and uncles." He walked over to the crowd control panel and turned the volume down.

"Those scavengers are my friends," he said pensively.

"And as long as you're all inside the city perimeter, I don't mind," Hobby said. "But we have these rules for a reason, remember? The police have limited jurisdiction here. But outside…. What if Skipper gets boarded by the Coast Guard? You know how he is. He'll probably have some contraband onboard. And what happens when a certain Field Commander Greig catches wind of a boy matching your description being picked up on the waters outside Manhattan?"

David wanted to reply, but he had no words.

He looked out over the waterways of Manhattan. Boats were going to and fro, on their way to whatever business sustained them in this drowned city. One of them seemed headed for Cybertronics. He could see dark clad men aboard, standing around their heavily wrapped cargo. He wondered what they were bringing, or retrieving … and he wondered if he could sneak away with them.

In the distance, great white cloudbanks hung over the vast blue horizon. The sight beckoned him, stirred his growing spirit for adventure. When was the last time he'd been inland? He could barely remember.

And when was the last time he had seen Her? So long ago that her face was beginning to fade.

But Dad was right. He was always right, it seemed.

"Alright," he sighed, hanging his head in resignation.

"Now, can you come down here, please?" Hobby said. "There's something else we really need to talk about."

David didn't like the tone of those words.

"What now?" he said. "I finished my studies. I cleaned my room. All the prototypes are running diagnostics."

"But there is one thing you obviously forgot, son." Hobby interrupted. "I'll be waiting in the study."

Teddy beeped as the line went dead, and seemed to come out of a daze.

"Hello, David!" Teddy said, suddenly aware of its surroundings.

David harrumphed.

"Little spy," he snapped as he started making his way to the study, wondering what he'd done wrong this time.

Teddy watched David storm off, wondering the same exact thing.

**2**

The study was empty when David arrived. No one was about, except Alfred who was set to standby in the corner, and a silent blonde 500 Series sitting silently on the couch, a lost look on its cherubic face. The crown of its little head was missing and a series of cables erupted from its skull, connecting it to Dad's desktop.

David pondered the sleeping bot for a moment, remembering that he had once been like that, sitting blanked-faced on that same couch.

He shrugged the thought off. It had been years ago. He could barely remember any of those days. The daily rigors of Orga life consumed his thoughts now.

"Dad?" David called.

There was no response but a steady beep-beep-beep from the program Dad had running on his console, and the soft whirring noise that was a constant backdrop to everything at Cybertronics.

David was getting annoyed. Again.

"Where'd he go, Alfred?" he said.

The Mecha Butler snapped to consciousness and focused on David.

"I'm sorry, sir," Alfred said. "Your Father was here a moment ago, but I'm afraid he's left."

"Well, I can see that much myself," David said. Then he noticed his lute sitting on the chair by his Father's desk.

"Hey, how'd that get out here," he said. He turned back to Alfred. "Is this the reason he called me down here? Just to put my lute away? You could have done that!"

"I'm sorry sir," Alfred replied. "I do not know the reason you were beckoned."

David grumbled under his breath the words he didn't want Alfred to hear, and went to retrieve his instrument. But he quickly realized something was not right. The lute sitting on the chair was larger than his classical model. The wood was lighter, polished to the point of shimmering, and the soundboard was decorated with an elaborate carving. David approached the chair slowly and studied the instrument. His heart began to race as he gently picked it up. The fret board was dark maple and the body Swiss Pine, which was increasingly rare nowadays. The bridge was set firmly into the base, as if the whole instrument had been carved from a single piece of wood. He plucked a string with his thumb and a full-bodied note resonated throughout the room.

"Whoa," he said in soft reverence. He sat and began to finger a piece by John Dowland, a 16th century composer whose lonely melodies David had come to be very fond of. The notes reverberated slowly through the room, and David's mind followed them. In moments he was lost in the music, pursuing that moody dream state which always came over him when he played. Each note was pure, the harmonic overtones ringing perfectly through the tear shaped soundboard.

"Don't you know any happy songs?"

The voice broke David from his trance. He looked up to see Grace standing in the doorway, a wry smile on her face and amusement in her eyes.

"Grace?" David said, perplexed, pondering the strange expression on her face. He held the lute up for her to see. "Do you know anything about-"

But he stopped mid-sentence, suddenly remembering what he'd forgotten.

"_SURPRISE!"_

The room was suddenly filled with people. They rushed in from the doorways and began slapping David on the back, mussing his hair and pinching his cheeks. Ariel was there, with Mario and the guys from the lab, laughing and smiling. Skipper and Eddie suddenly jumped out and punched him firmly on each arm.

"Happy birthday, brat!" the two scavengers laughed.

Everyone had brightly decorated gift-wrapped boxes in hand.

"_Happy __Birthday __to __you!_" they sang in shaky harmony.

David smiled, trying not to laugh at the accidental off notes from the guys in the lab… and the intentional ones from Skipper and Eddie, who never seemed to miss a chance at mischief.

When the song was finished, Allan Hobby broke through the crowd and embraced David.

"Sixteen years old," he said proudly, hugging David tight as the rest of the room looked on with adoring eyes. "Congratulations."

Then he leaned close, so no one would hear, and whispered in the boy's ear.

"Happy fifth birthday, son." He said.

**3**

David had no birthday. But Allen Hobby's son did… his real son; the boy who had died after slumbering for years in a frozen coma; the boy whose death had broken his father's heart and sent the man on a quest that would lead to David's creation.

Now, through an incomprehensible miracle, David had become that boy. Or at least as far as anyone knew.

Hobby had offered no explanation. One day he had simply introduced David to the staff as his newly adopted son… and that was that. David had noticed the perplexed expressions and fully expected someone to point out the startling similarity between David and… well, David. But no one had spoken. For all David knew they might think their boss had gone crazy, and had adopted one of his Mecha creations from loneliness.

Only Grace already knew the impossible truth. And she had been taken into Allen Hobby's confidence.

The boy's presence was to be a secret, Hobby had warned, one whose breach would mean the end of a career. And when Alan Hobby used words like that… people listened.

But such precautions were really unnecessary. The truth was, Cybertronics was a family. Hobby trusted them, and they trusted him. Trust was a crucial part of their success and a trait Hobby sought in any hire.

True to the Blue Fairy's promise, David had began to grow and mature like an Orga boy… for he was one now. All the complexities of living that he had had once found so confounding he had began to take for granted. And now that he was moving towards adulthood, a whole new set of life's issues were falling in his path.

He was taller, his chest was filling out and arms getting stronger with his daily exercise. Dad could no longer dress him in the clothing that had been designed for his Mecha brothers. And he was happy about that. David found he preferred casual attire. He wore his old jeans and t-shirts until they wree threadbare and Dad began to complain. He actually preferred them to the stylistic clothing that Dad brought him, assuming like most adults, that all teenagers gravitated towards the same fashion statements. David didn't know or care much about what was in fashion. He had no one he was trying to impress, nor any clique he wanted to be part of.

His voice had grown deeper as his body went through changes that he had not yet grown accustomed to. He'd had a small bout with acne, but it had only lasted a few weeks. Thin wisps of peach fuzz had grown above his upper lips and more had sprouted from other, unexpected places on his body.

His temperament had changed too. He would often find his patience wearing thin at little things he used to easily tolerate. Teddy got on his nerves more lately, especially since he'd become a spy for Dad. But their friendship was still intact… even though he wasn't the 'real' Teddy. (David never brought that up in front of the toy.)

David had become impatient with his isolation and savored the time he spent with his scavenger friends, floating around Manhattan, searching for sunken treasure or just lazing around Skipper's boat, reading, playing his lute and listening to the old men recount obviously embellished tales of their many misadventures.

Over the years new urgent feelings had awakened in David; ones that would sometimes keep wake him awake at night, lascivious images surging through his imagination until he got a grip on himself, and managed to fall into a relieved slumber.

Dad had spoken with him about these things and David quickly realized what Rouge City was all about. He took it all in stride, realizing that this was definitely something he would never have appreciated in his other life.

He often thought of Wizzy on his lonely nights; and the special kiss she had bestowed him before she said goodbye. Maybe, someday, he would see her again.

And then there were the dreams! He loved to dream, almost as much as he loved to play his lute. The mysterious blue dreams still came to him sometimes, though not as often as they used to. And unlike the others, most of which had to do with living at Mommy's house, or beating the crap out of Martin or Henry, and sometimes both of them at once, David could never remember the Blue Dreams upon wakening. He just recalled a strange rollicking sensation that never seemed to end.

**4**

Five years.

It was hard to believe it had been five years since he had come to live in his home at the End Of The World. Five long and trying years of life as Orga. But the fundamental concerns were history,. He no longer had to worry about mere survival issues. There was always food. There was shelter. And he had the best care for his fragile human body. Now David faced new problems, 'existential' problems, as he had learned they were called.

Why was he here? Why was anybody here?

What was this Orga life really all about?

The Blue fairy had said it was a trial, and full of conflicts of flesh and spirit. But if it was a trial, then what verdict was sought? And what resolution could there be to the many conflicts he'd face?

Somehow his lute held a key. He was certain of it. There was no logical reason for this feeling. It was tied to his new sense of intuition, that peculiar 'oddness' of Orga that Joe had warned him of. Joe couldn't have known that this strange flight of logic called imagination, that made Orga so 'odd', was also what made them the weavers of masterpieces and miracles.

The same irrationality that made them believe in things that could not be seen or measured, also made dreams come true, allowed them to bring the invisible world to life. They'd actually duplicated themselves in metal and fiber. Amazing.

David had spent long hours practicing his music and had mastered many of the songs he loved. There was something magic in music now. It was more than audible mathematical codes, as it had been when he was fiber. It held a new vibrancy with his Orga ears…. and heart.

Now it was… _alive!_

He had also delved into reading. Mysteries, Fantasies, Crime, Romance, Historical works and Scientific Journals. He loved it all. Everything on the page was easily converted to audio, but he preferred the simple art of reading. Especially with fiction. The written word gave him choices that audio translations did not; the freedom to determine the pace and inflection of the words. It was 'active'… not static. He was both an observer and a participant to the written word.

Writing was also part of his life. He had started a journal of sorts; short essays at first, littered with what he now saw as juvenile assessments of life's fundamental questions. But he had developed and was now tackling fiction, which he saw as the most difficult form.

All stories are metaphor, he had realized. It seemed that everything else is easy by comparison.

His studies led him to get involved with his Father's art: the simulation of life. They would often talk at length into the late hours of night; his Father asking ceaseless questions about how he felt during the strange transition; what he could remember of being Mecha. But to David this was all the past. He thought of the life ahead….

And of those short periods when he could manage to see Her.

Skipper and Eddie had helped him with this. Skipper was an old friend of Hiro, an aging portly bearded man with an effusive laugh and a sense of humor that was as off color as the faded tie-dyed shirts he always wore. They obviously had some sentimental value. Eddie was younger than Skipper by a couple decades; dark haired and dark-skinned with eyes that winked easily, and always looked like he was up to something. He usually was.

He had been the one who had come up with the schemes to allow David to see his mother. They were covert campaigns, those missions to the inland. They he had gone on a dozen or so over the years. But only two of them had actually worked.

Once when they'd followed the family cruiser to a shopping mall and tailed inconspicuously behind She and Henry until the building's digital brain noticed the trio's strange behavior and sent Mecha guards to investigate. Skipper had got them out of that one with his quick thinking. The man was obviously used to getting out of jams with the authorities.

And once when they had had followed Monica to a Holo-show in Shadow Creek, where David managed to sit just a few rows behind her as a holographic remake of an old Stephen Spielberg film about a robotic child filled the dark theater. (David spent most of the time gazing on Monica's profile, so he only saw bits of the holo. After the show Eddie said he thought the premise was a little absurd, in his humble opinion. David had shrugged and said he'd actually found it rather prophetic.)

Monica had not been alone in the theater either. Martin had been with her. His hair was shorter then, and he was dressed in more conventional clothing. But his dark, suspicious eyes were the same. They roamed everywhere, as if he was expecting to see an unwelcome face lingering in the shadows. David had had to wait until the lights went down before entering the theater, and then scrunch down in his seat when Martin passed by on his way for refreshments, or to the restroom and back.

But even in Martin's absence, David had dared not speak to her. He knew she was not ready for such an encounter.

Someday. Someday when it would not devastate her mind, he would be able to tell her how much he still loved her. How much he would always love her. She would always be at the foundation of his being.

She was the reason he was here, after all.

**5**

David had blown out the candles and the presents had been opened. Now the people were gathered in pockets around the room, socializing while devouring ice cream and platefuls of the German Chocolate cake that Grace had baked herself. No simulation there. One bite and David dropped any lingering regret he had about becoming Orga.

"Mmm! Delicious Grace," David had mumbled through a mouthful.

"Sweets for the sweet," she'd replied with a wink.

"Umm… corney," David said.

Grace shrugged. "Yeah, I know," she said, and kissed him on the forehead.

Teddy made his appearance and was now taking in the festivities from his usual position, seated comfortably in David's lap. David had forgiven the toy, again, but made sure his comm. was off before he allowed the toy to sit.

Mario and the guys from the lab were playing with the Mecha Golden Retriever they had made for David, making the toy dog do tricks while Skipper and Eddie looked on amused. David had thanked them warmly, though it was just a bigger and shaggier version of the poodle they'd made for him last year.

"Make it pee on the carpet," Eddie suggested. Everybody laughed but Mario who was a bit serious about his creations and took any jokes about them as insults.

"Well, it can't pee, but I am pretty sure I can make it bite," Mario replied. Eddie kept any further suggestions to himself.

Grace and a few of her friends were sitting by the window, enjoying the crisp ocean air and whispering among themselves. She glanced over at David a few times, winking and smiling. One of her friends, a blonde woman with a lilt to her eyebrows that always made look sarcastic, shot him a smile and then leaned close to Grace to ask a question.

Probably wondering what a boy of my age is doing with teddy bear in my lap, David thought.

He laughed to himself, wondering what Grace had told the women about him. He had only seen these girls a few times before and had never spoken to either at length. Did they even know about Alan Hobby's lost son? He was sure that Dad would not have allowed them to the small party if they could not be trusted.

David had come to love Grace like an aunt. She doted on him, fetching almost anything he wanted. So much so that Hobby Dad had had to have a talk with her about it.

Only she and Dad knew his secret. She had guessed it that fateful night when she'd snuck into his bedroom to see what she assumed was her boss's new creation. Only to find a human child sitting on the window sill, mocking her and laughing at her uncomprehending eyes..

Who could she tell anyway? Who would believe her?

She never even asked any questions about _'__the __miracle__'_ as she called it. Somehow David knew it scared her. He was unsure if she held any religious convictions, but on the few times she had mentioned his transition, she referred to it only like that; as _'__the__ miracle__'_… as if trying to understand it might destroy the magic and he would change back into a toy.

He winked back at Grace and placed Teddy on the floor so he could grab another bite of cake before his guests devoured it completely.

He also wanted a word with his father.

**6**

"That wasn't funny," David said as he approached Hobby, scolding the man for the way he had tricked him into coming down for the surprise party. "I thought I was in trouble."

"Got ya," Hobby chuckled. "You like the lute?" he said.

David had to swallow a mouthful of cake before he responded.

"Mm-mm… Yeah, it's beautiful! Where did you find it?"

"Money is how I found it," Hobby said. Then his face grew serious. He pulled David to the corner of the room and spoke in a whisper.

"I know about your trips to see Monica."

A look of guilt grew on David's face. He shot a glance at his two scavenger friends, but they were still preoccupied with the toy dog, which was now balancing on its head, spinning in a circle, while the lab guys laughed and made suggestions of what trick to do next.

"No, Skipper and Eddie didn't say anything," Hobby said.

"Then how'd you find out?" David said.

Hobby shook his head.

"Doesn't really matter, son," he said. "What matters is that you are incredibly vulnerable. To take such chances! It's foolish… it's dangerous. There are jams that my money can't get you out of. You must consider the ramifications of your actions."

David stumbled for words, looking at the floor to avoid his Father's disappointed eyes.

Hobby sighed.

"I know it's difficult, David. Nobody else of your age around…. no Orga anyway. I know you get lonely. But in a couple years you'll be of legal age. Whoever is looking for you will probably be on to something else, or they will have retired and the case of the strange boy in the stolen amphibicopter will be stuck in the cold case files. And maybe Monica will be in a sound frame of mind by then."

"And what if she is not?" David said. "What if she's worse?"

It was Hobby's turn to stumble for words. This wasn't a good time for this conversation. He should have waited to bring it up. He started to wave it off, but David had more to say.

"You're right," David whispered. "I've seen her and she doesn't look good. She looks older than her age. And her eyes are …" he stopped, having no way to explain the disconnected look in his Mother's face. The way her smile never seemed to reach her eyes.

"I'm afraid, Dad," david said, his voice breaking. He took a moment to compose himself. "Afraid that I'll never see her again… that she'll be locked up in some hospital or… or that, by the time I am free to see her, she won't be… _here_ anymore."

Once again Hobby had to concede to David's concerns. He motioned for his son to let it go.

"Let's talk about this later," he said. "I was wrong to bring it up on your special day. I only said anything because…" Hobby was quiet for an awkward moment. Then his face suddenly lightened.

"I forgot to show you all your presents," he said with a mischievous grin.

David managed to force his grim thoughts away.

"Cough up the goods, old man," he said.

**7**

Hobby walked to the large monitor on the wall of his study. He picked up a set of gloves that had been sitting on a table and handed them to David.

"Have a seat," he said, pulling up a chair.

David sat down and analyzed the gloves. They were obviously game controls, similar to the ones used for most virtual environments. But there was something different about these ones. He shot a curious look at Hobby.

"Look familiar?" Hobby said as he turned on the monitor. What David saw was the floor level loading dock, where Hiro and Chiyoko had dropped him on his return home. Beneath this view lay a virtual control console. David knew these controls. He'd seen them before.

"I think you've flown an amphibicopter befoe, haven't you?" Hobby said.

Flight simulator? David was sure that Dad knew he already had one of these. But he smiled like it was a big surprise anyway. He put his hands up to let the gloves calibrate and then turned on the thrusters.

"Nice graphics," he said approvingly.

"Not exactly," Hobby said.

"What's 'not exactly'," David said.

"You'll see," Hobby said "Take her for a spin."

David lifted the simulator a few feet off the ground and spun a few quick circles to get a feel for the controls. By now the others in the room had broken from their conversations and were gathered around the monitor, watching him and cheering him on.

David finally lifted off the dock and shot quickly over the waters. The layout of Manhattan was precise. Eerily realistic. He even saw Skipper's boat docked alongside the building. He circled it a few times; saw exact duplicates of the boat's sails and the hand-decorated tarps Skipper used to cover his salvage.

Skipper made an impressed whistle.

"Someone been watching me a little too closely," he said with a gruff laugh.

David looked up at his Father. "How'd you … who programmed this?"

"Why don't you fly up to the study window," Hobby said.

David flew along side the building and lifted up past the floors. As he came close to the place where the study should be, he heard a strange high-pitched whine growing outside the window.

Then he understood.

"No way!" he said.

"Yes way," his Father laughed.

Everyone turned to see a remote controlled model amphibicopter hovering outside the window. It was about three feet long, an exact replica of the Police Copter he'd been trapped inside for two years. It emitted a thin, high pitched electric whine has it hovered.

David turned back to the screen and rotated the copter so that the front view cam was looking into the window. The people in the room saw themselves on the screen and began waving and laughing.

"Now _this_ is cool," David said.

"You really think so?" Hobby said.

"Yes. Very, very cool. Thanks!"

"Hmm. Well, maybe you should take a look at the roof," Hobby said.

David liked the way that sounded. He pulled back on the controls and heard the small thrusters on the model outside whistle and fade away, as it rose quickly to the top of the building.

On the monitor he saw that the baseball net had been removed. In its place stood a group of five men, dressed in dark overalls. He realized that these were the men he'd seen approaching the building when Dad had called him. They were standing in a semi-circle around something large that had been covered in a white tarp adorned with a large blue bow.

David flew the remote copter slowly towards the group, watching their images grow in the monitor. One of them finally waved at the copter, and then gestured to the others. As one, the men stepped forward and removed the tarp.

David lost his breath. The rest of the room gasped.

Hobby tried not to laugh at their reactions.

"Damn!" Eddie blurted.

"Why, you lucky little brat," Skipper said.

"Oh, my," Grace mumbled. "That's gonna be trouble."

The craft that had been covered by the tarp had a flat, oval shaped body that tapered at the rear. It shimmered like polished chrome, reflecting back the rays of the afternoon sun. It stood only 5 feet off the ground and was about fourteen feet in length, with a wingspan of six feet and a tail fin that erupted from behind the cockpit and ran the length of the frame. But it didn't really need much of either. They were less for lift than for stability at high altitudes.

David finally caught his breath.

"A Strato-cruiser?" he said in disbelief. "You got me a Strato-cruiser?"

"Now _that_ is cool," Alan Hobby said. "But there are some conditions we need to talk about before you…"

Allen Hobby was forced to stop mid-sentence and catch up with his son, who was already racing for the elevator.

(cont...)


	25. Chapter 25

**Alive**

**Book 2**

**Pt2**

**1**

It was a perfect day to be lazy. And after all the cake and revelry from the day before, not to mention to the few celebratory sips of wine his Father had allowed him, (after which he knew he'd never understand the fascination with alcohol) David really wasn't in the mood for anything that required prolonged concentration. So, for a change he turned off his computer, put down his books, his lute and lessons, and left his mechanical siblings to their own studies.

He had initially hoped that Ariel would take him up for a spin in his new Strato-cruiser. It was a 'Vayu'; a sleek two-seater, imported from India. After the drowning of major western cities led to the decline of US industry, India had become one of the chief manufacturing centers of the world. Along with Brazil, China and Mexico, they made most of the top line cruisers, terrain or airborne. The Vayu, named after a Hindu deity that ruled the wind, was their most popular model. Small and light, easy to store and maintain, it was the perfect craft for beginners, and David could not wait to get airborne. But he wouldn't be allowed to pilot it by himself until he got a permit, and then only in permit zones, far away from populated areas. After that would come the legal hoops Dad would have to jump through to get him registered and licensed, if he ever hoped to fly inland.

Until that time though, zipping over the open waters with a licensed pilot wouldn't be breaking any rules.

But Ariel had been busy doing maintenance on the Cybertronics fleet. He'd been poking around beneath a copter with its panels off, when David came into the hangar. Ariel had crawled from under the craft, taken one look at the hangdog look in David's face, and knew what he wanted.

"Sorry," he said. "Not today, buddy. Maybe tomorrow."

But David knew tomorrow was a workday. His flying lessons probably wouldn't start until the following weekend. He retreated without argument.

After a while of playing with the new toy dog Mario had made for him, David's laptop buzzed. It was a text from Eddie.

"_U up?" _it said.

"_No. I type in my sleep." _David replied.

"_Brat. Wanna dive w us?"_

David thought for a moment.

"_No excursions per The Admin,"_ he wrote.

The Admin referred to his Father. 'No excursions' meant there'd be no sneaking inland right now. He knew the two scavengers had been planning to take him to check up on Monica; a belated present for his birthday. But it was too much of a risk now. Dad was watching.

"_Just mapping,"_ came the reply.

_"K. When?"_

"_30mn. Lower docks,"_ Eddie wrote. _"And nix the little spy."_

David laughed. That was about Teddy. No one could be sure anymore who was watching through the toys eyes, or listening through its ears. David suddenly realized that Teddy was probably how Dad had found out about the trips inland.

_"Way ahead of u,"_ he wrote.

**2**

A little over an hour later they were free floating a few miles beyond the cluster of sunken skyscrapers of old Manhattan. The weeping of the Lions was only a low rumble in the distance. Massive cloud heads billowed above, like herds of great white mastodons casting huge shadows on the waters as they trekked slowly through the sky. Even the Ocean seemed bluer than usual.

If only every day could be like this, David thought as he sat on the edge of the retractable loading platform that floated alongside Skipper's boat. Whatever they dredged up would be piled and sorted through here, and then the junk would be thrown back in the water, or taken to a disposal center if it was something toxic. If they located anything valuable, but too big to haul up with the skiff, Skipper would tag it as 'found' and go rent with a bigger boat. But big finds were rare now-a-days. There was still plenty of small stuff, however, to make up the difference.

David was in his favorite old cut-offs and a t-shirt, piloting the RC Amphibicopter his Father had given him and kicking his bare feet into the cool water. He was using the regular RC controls now, and wore a lens-sized monitor over one eye so he could see from the copter's vantage. On the small monitor, he could see himself and the two scavengers from the RC camera high above. Skipper was at the wheel, studying a monitor that displayed what was beneath the boat. And Eddie was on the deck, slipping into his skin suit, getting ready to go after anything Skipper found. .

David decided to have some fun.

"Heads up!" he yelled.

"Heads up what?" Eddie said, turning quickly to see what David was talking about.

"Up your butt!" David said. Eddie started to say something back, but was forced to duck as the toy amphibicopter whistled by, just feet over his head, and dashed out toward the horizon.

Skipper started laughing.

Eddie was not so impressed.

"Oh, real funny!" he said. "Do that again and you're swimming back!"

David was having too much fun to acknowledge the threat. He put the copter into a vertical climb until it began to stall, then he leveled off and let it hover there. In his eyepiece, he noticed a real copter approaching from beyond 'The Torch', as the locals called the looming arm of the drowned statue of Liberty. He watched the copter quietly for a moment, wondering where it might be headed.

"Heck, I could make it home from here," he said, finally, without even looking to see how far away it was.

"Not in this current, you ain't," Skipper said. He'd been watching a monitor that displayed colorful graphs of the submerged surface, superimposed over a layout of old city planning maps; ones that had been made before the first of the great waves had hit back in 2012. The maps told him what types of buildings should be submerged there. The color-coded graphs showed him what types of metals might be lying around or hidden inside them. Every scavenger was hoping to see the signs of gold or silver. But they weren't the only metals that had value. Copper. Brass. Titanium. All could bring enough coin to be worth a dive.

"Oh, that's nothing, Skip," David said. "Did you know the youngest person to swim the English Channel was only 11 years old?"

"Fascinating," Eddie grumbled as he went back to suiting up. "Maybe I'll give you a chance to beat that record."

"Don't start you two," Skipper said. But he knew this was just their typical routine.

David had piloted the RC to the point where he could make out the writing on the approaching copter. It was black letters in a bright amber circle. It read: _'Yellow'_

He knew that logo. It was a private shuttle service that Dad sometimes used to bring visitors from inland when the fleet was unavailable.

"Nah, that wouldn't beat any records," he said, returning to teasing Eddie. "Home is only a few miles away, and when I got there I'd be climbing onto a dock. The Channel is 21 miles at the narrowest point… well it used to be anyway, back when the record was set… and then you have to climb up a cliff of rocks when you get to France."

Skipper sighed. "Kid, you ever read anything that'll do anybody any good?" he said.

David chuckled. "In this day and age, Skip, nothing is more valuable than information," he said.

"And what philosopher said that?" Eddie teased. "The Buddha?"

David clucked his tongue. "Actually an old friend told me that. And The Buddha wasn't a philosopher, he was a prince who gave up a life of royalty to be a wandering spiritual teacher."

"Well, whatever," Eddie said. "I still bet you couldn't make it."

Skipper gave Eddie a sour look.

"Nobody's swimming back, and that's final," he said.

"I did it before," David said nonchalantly. But Eddie was prepping his air-tanks and Skipper was studying something on the screen. Neither bothered to challenge his claim. This was actually a good thing, because he could not have explained that he'd been a Mecha at the time, and had been carried the distance by underwater currents. He chuckled to himself, imagining what their reactions might look like.

The shuttle he'd been watching in his eyepiece, zoomed over the Lions and was now setting down atop the Cybertronics building. One of the lab guys was waiting there, but David's RC copter was still a couple miles out, and he couldn't zoom in tight enough to see who it was.

Skipper suddenly let out an excited guffaw.

"Booya, y'all!" he yelled, laughing.

David heard Eddie scamper up on deck to see what Skipper had found. But he ignored them both, preoccupied with his RC as he maneuvered closer to the Cybertronics building to try and get a better view of the visitors.

Two people had exited the shuttle. A man and … a woman? No, it was a girl! His RC cam wasn't close enough to make out her face, but he was sure she was young… about his age. The idea piqued David's curiosity and he sat up straight.

"Hello?" he muttered to himself.

She was light skinned, dressed in a dark jump suit with a bag slung over her shoulder.. Her hair was dark and done up in long braids.. The man that had arrived with her had dark hair too. But he was dressed in casual business attire, slacks and a plain white shirt.

A tech?

And there was something else too. Something oddly familiar about the way he moved.

"David! You should see this!" Eddie said. Whatever they'd found had obviously made him forget about tossing David overboard.

"In a minute," David said. He watched the man reach back into the copter and pull out some large cases. Salesmen maybe? They obviously weren't bringing parts, or they'd have gone straight to the lab dock. Then he realized that the cases were luggage.

Luggage?

That meant visitors. They rarely had anyone stay over, and Dad always told him beforehand. David hated stay-overs and office parties with a lot of outsiders, because he was usually told to stay out of sight. The less he was seen, the fewer questions were asked. He hoped these people wouldn't be staying long… well except the girl. Maybe she wouldn't be so bad.

"David!" Skipper called. "C'mere, boy. Check this out."

David set his RC to auto, so it would hover where it was, and set the controls aside. Then he rose, grumbling about being interrupted from his spying.

"What-what-what?" he said, annoyed as he climbed the ladder from the platform to the deck and up to the wheel.

Skipper stepped back and gestured for David to sit at the monitor. Eddie punched him playfully on the arm as he passed.

"That's for the fly over," he said.

"I owe you for that!" David said, rubbing his arm in mock pain as he sat at the steering console. "Now what is so important that you need me to -"

David's breath caught when he realized what he was looking at. It was ironic that Eddie had brought up the Buddha. In any other situation it might have been funny. But it wasn't. What he saw on the screen oddly resembled the Hindu 'Wheel of Life': a large circle connected by lines running, like spokes, from a point at its center. The whole thing glowed faintly orange on the screen, a sign that it was comprised of steel. Duller colors indicated where other materials had been used, or where rust and barnacles had corroded the surface.

"A Ferris Wheel," David said slowly. It was almost a whisper.

"Give the man his prize," Skipper said. "And, if I am reading this layout correctly," he tapped a key on the console and a series of numbered white lines overlaid the image, "we should be right over top old Coney Island."

David started to reply, but his mouth just hung open.

"C'mon, Mr. Bookworm," Skipper said. "You never read anything about old Manhattan? Coney Island? Old amusement park from back in the 20th Century? One of the first places to go when the big wave hit. It was off-limits for years, but I guess the Feds finally found whatever they were looking for. Heck, we might be the first scroungers here since the ban was lifted."

"Oh, yeah," David said, feigning a late realization. "Coney Island."

He repeated the word, robotically. A strange urgent feeling began building in his chest. But his friends didn't notice his sudden unease.

"Yep," Skipper said. "And lookie here." He pointed a calloused finger at the monitor, indicating a dot in the center of the glowing wheel. It was small and faint, a sign that it was probably covered by soot and sea life. But the hint of its shape and the deep blue light that shone from it, left David no doubt about what… about _who _it was.

"Think that might be something special? Hmm?" Skipper said.

**3**

Nobody knew about the statute that stood beneath the restless waters. David had not even told Alan Hobby, the man who had fathered the boy in whose likeness he had been created, of it's whereabouts. Something inside told him that _'She'_ should remain a secret; that Hers was a sacred place, and that he had only been granted a mortal life because of his ardor and determination.

Because of _love. _

He had once offered to take his friend Angelo to her, so that he would have this miracle for himself. But Angelo had automatically shut down after freeing David from his captivity. He could never repay that sacrifice. Now he intuitively understood that any other who sought the special gift, must come to her of their own accord, on the wings of their own determination.

There had been many nights during his time at the End Of The World, when he'd sat quietly on the sill of his room, plucking his lute and gazing out on the ocean, wondering about the miracle that had happened. Sometimes, on those lonely nights, he thought he'd seen a glimmer of blue light swirling deep in the water. But it had only lasted moments. It was probably divers, he would think afterwards. Or maybe just his imagination. But in the end it didn't matter what he'd seen, if anything. He had never sought Her out. And he had no intention of ever doing so.

Perhaps She was the source of the Blue Dreams, as he called them, those strange visions he could never remember upon awakening. Perhaps She was calling to him somehow… or maybe a trace of the magic that had been performed was still in his brain, and would awaken during his slumber.

No matter what the cause, though, he would not go down there.

Nor would he let anyone else.

**4**

"I don't know Skipper," David said, trying to maintain his calm. "It looks pretty dangerous. Don't you think?"

Skipper paused a moment, humming as he studied the monitor. "What do you mean?" he said. "I don't see any problems."

Eddie was suited up, standing at the edge of the platform, waiting for Skipper to upload the coordinates of the Ferris Wheel. The small computer in his headset would retrieve the data, and then use luminous arrows in his mask to guide him.

"Ready," Eddie said. "Send that stuff, so I can get going."

Skipper reached for the send button. But David lunged and caught his hand.

"Wait," he said, his mind racing for an excuse. "Uh… How do you know it's ok now? I mean… didn't you say the Police had banned this area for scavenging?"

"It's called 'salvaging', kid. And it was the Feds who locked us out. The reason I know it's ok is because I am one of the few scroungers around here who bothers to check the Government website for updates. It was cleared for salvage two weeks ago."

David clung to Skipper's hand as he sought desperately for another reason to keep them from diving.

"Yeah, but are you sure," he said at last. "I mean… you could get in a lot of trouble if you're wrong…. Right?"

Skipper was not a stupid man. He pulled his hand away from the keyboard and looked at David cautiously.

"What is up with you, David?" he said. He never used David's name unless he was really concerned. "Something you're not telling me?"

Eddie made an impatient noise. "Hey-hey! I'm waiting here!" he said.

David inadvertently bit his bottom lip as he thought. Skipper mistook this telling expression to mean there was something he was afraid to say. The man's fuzzy brows narrowed.

"Were you out here before, kid… when it was still prohibited?" he said.

David was about to answer when something suddenly buzzed against his leg. The sensation surprised him, and he jumped.

"Somebody had too much wine last night," Skipper said, only half joking.

"It's my pod," David explained quickly, reaching into his pocket. He rarely carried the thing since Teddy was usually around to act as a phone. But Teddy was in exile. David scanned the screen. It was a text from Grace.

"_Visitors. C me b4 u go 2 ur room."_

David punched the affirmation key and tucked the pod back in his pocket.

Eddie cleared his throat. "Sooo, are we still doing this or what?" he said. His impatience was turning into anger. Skipper held up a hand for calm.

"Hold up, Eddie," he said. Then he looked at David long and hard. "C'mon. You know I won't report it. Were you down there?" he said. "Or were you with somebody who went down?"

"Well..." David started. Then he sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Look Skip," he said, "that was a message from Grace and… and I have to go back now… for some reason."

It was a lie, and he hated lying, especially to friends. But there was no other way out.

"Please trust me on this one, Skip" David said. "It's dangerous down there. That Ferris Wheel fell over a long time ago, but it hasn't settled yet. A good current kicks up and Eddie could get hurt."

Skipper was glaring at him skeptically.

"Better to err on the side of caution, huh?" David said. "For Eddies sake?"

The old scavenger's weather-worn features finally softened.

"Was it Hiro?" he said. "Was he and Chiyoko diving out here? Is that what you don't want to tell me?"

David didn't let his elation reach his face. Skipper had just given him an out! He looked down into his lap for a moment, pretending to struggle with a difficult admission. Then he looked up at Skipper and put on his best 'guilty-kid-trying-to-look-innocent' expression; something he'd learned working the Flesh Fairs with Sy and the gang.

"I can't say," he said, smiling weakly, as if he'd just broken a confidence. It wasn't exactly a lie.

"Bah!" Skipper yelled, slamming his fist on the wheel. "I should'a known that crazy old scavenger had been out here."

"Salvager," David corrected. "But yeah, he's crazy… and old."

Skipper made a reluctant laugh. He never stayed angry with David for long.

"Maybe you could send a bot down?" David suggested. It was a diplomatic ploy. He hated playing people like this, but it had to be done.

"This is a Mecha restricted zone, kid. You know that," Skipper said.

David was completely aware of that. But he slapped his forehead as if he had forgotten.

"Oh yeah," he said. "I'm around them all the time, so I forget about that."

Skipper sighed. "I wish I could send a bot down, but damned Cybertronics…" He stopped and smiled an apology. David just waved it off, grateful that the ploy had worked.

"No offense," Skipper said. "Your Dad's a great guy but all those damned regulations, man. They ain't fair to the rest of us." He made an exasperated sound, and ran a hand over his brow as he gazed around the horizon. Then he turned back to David.

"Why didn't you warn me off before Eddie suited up," he said.

"I didn't know it was the same place. I was too busy with my RC," David said, grateful to be able to tell the truth again.

"Well, next time bring your lute instead," he said. "I like your playing, and to tell the truth that damned RC gets annoying after a while."

Then the man's face lit up.

"Hey, what's the depth limit on that thing?" he said.

David knew where he was going with this.

"Umm… not enough?" he replied.

Skipper gave him a last suspicious look.

"There's more to this, I can tell," he said. "I guess you have you have your reasons for not saying. But we'll go into that later. Right now I better get you back, before Grace has a conniption."

"I don't think she has those," David said as he stood to let Skipper sit at the wheel.

"All women do," Skipper replied. "It's why I avoid 'em."

It was David's turn to make a conciliatory laugh.

Eddie mumbled something indecipherable as he threw off his headset and struggled to remove his tanks.

"Forget this!" he said, picking up David's remote, which was laying on the platform where he'd left it. "If we're not going down, I'm going up."

Skipper started the boat and began heading back as David and Eddie started to argue over the RC controls.

**5**

It had been months since David had seen his old friends, Chiyoko and Hiro. They dropped by once in a while, when they were making their rounds, or when they stopped in to visit the other scavengers who lived around the sunken city. They always hid their Mecha child in the boat when they came, to avoid any unpleasantness with the private security force that patrolled the city. But David had seen the boybot on the last visit, and they were taking good care of it. Chiyoko was smiling a lot more too.

But now he had to send them a message. He'd implicated them in his lie to keep Eddie from diving, and he wanted to ask Hiro to play along. He was sure the old guy would, but he would also expect an explanation.

What could he say? That Skipper had been about to disturb the Blue Fairy's resting place? And when Hiro asked what the hell the Blue Fairy was… then what?

He could figure it out later. Right now he had to see what Grace wanted.

He had flown his RC through his window before he'd entered the building, and landed it safely in his room. He raced up the loading dock and caught the elevator to Graces place. It was a level down from his Father's and took up almost half of the floor. There was no hallway. Just like Dad's study, the elevator emptied right into her workspace. But unlike Dad's, Grace's offices were colorful and modern, adorned with paintings and plants. It was deceptively luxurious. This was a business after all, and on an ordinary workday it would be filled with her staff, typing and phoning and arguing with clients, buyers and sellers, lawyers and technicians.

But today she would be alone.

She was sitting at a desk when David got off the elevator.

"What is it," he said as he approached. Grace rose and leaned a hand against the desk. There was a hint of presumed authority in her posture.

"A new hire arrived today," she explained. "He's going to be part of the lab crew. That means he'll be lodging here."

David shrugged. He decided not to tell her that he'd seen their arrival, and knew the man wasn't alone.

"Dad never said anything about that," he said. Grace sighed and crossed her arms. Why the defensive body language? David wondered. It wasn't like her.

"Yes. Well, he showed up early," she explained. "His final interview wasn't even scheduled until next week. But Alan was afraid of someone else grabbing him. I guess Cyberchild was making some last minute offers… big ones. Soooo…."

"So Dad snatched him off the shelf, eh?" David finished for her. Grace nodded. "He must really want the guy." David said.

"Yeah," Grace said. "Apparently he's got a lot of real world experience with the sims. And he has a good record. His profile analysis suggested high level of commitment and a strong sense of loyalty. And you know how important that is to your Dad."

"Which brings us to me," David said. Grace sighed, nodding.

"You know the cover story," she started, "You are…"

David cut her off.

"I am his adopted son, found in an unlicensed orphanage five years ago, hence the lack of birth and lineage records, etc etc…" he said. "Don't worry. I have it down, Grace."

"Don't take this lightly," she said, suddenly stern. "This man will be staying here and while he may be trustworthy, he's no dummy. Against my strong recommendations, Alan … I mean your Father, has decided not to play hide and seek with you anymore."

David took a moment to decipher this.

"You mean, he wants me to meet him?"

"Yes," Grace said. "Against my strong recommen-."

"You already said that," David said.

"Well, I am saying it again," Grace replied. "Against my _strong_ recommendations, your Father wants to introduce you to this man and…." Grace paused and rolled her eyes.

"And his daughter," she said.

"And his daughter?" David said.

"I already said that." Grace said.

"Well, I am saying it again." David replied.

Grace laughed in spite of her inexplicable discomfort. Was she anxious about the girl? David wondered why.

As if she was reading his mind, Grace took a deep breath and spoke slowly.

"Did your Father explain to you about girls?" she said.

Oh, David realized. Now he got it.

"Girls?" he said, pretending to be confused. "You mean physically… like the way that they're different? Or mentally… the way that they're crazy?"

He jumped back just in time to avoid the knuckles she had intended to knock against his head.

"Got to be faster than that, lady." David laughed, scampering around the desk to avoid her grasp.

"C'mon, David," she said when she gave up the chase. "I am trying to be serious now. There's going to be a teenage girl living here, and I just want to know that you know… whatever there is you need to know."

David snickered.

"Why do adults get so squeamish when they talk about sex?" he said.

"David!" she said. "I'm being serious now."

"Are you having a conniption?" he said.

"Oh, if I have a conniption, you'll know, mister. Now assure me you'll behave yourself."

David was taken aback by this.

"Grace," he said slowly. "Who do you think I am?"

"I think you're a teenage boy," she replied quickly. "Believe it or not, I was a young once and I know a little about them."

"Well, I may be a teenage boy, but I'm sure I'm not the kind you're thinking about!"

It was Grace's turn to be taken aback. David donned an apologetic look.

"I mean, don't worry about me," he said, softer.

He hadn't meant to yell. Perhaps some experience from her youth had caused her to think the worst him. A quiet moment passed between them before Grace replied.

"Ok, young man," she said, "I guess I'm assured." She pulled a small mirror from the desk drawer and started preening her hair.

David usually teased her about her fastidious nature. But he knew this was not the time.

"Let's go meet our guests" she said when she finished prepping herself.

David stammered. "You mean… _now_?"

"I mean now," she said.

"But… I'm not even dressed," he said.

Grace looked him over quickly.

"I understand the beach bum look is back in fashion," she said, and started away.

David followed, hoping this wouldn't take long. He still had to contact Hiro, before Skipper did.

**6**

Mario and a half dozen of the other techs were gathered at the center of the lab, laughing at something, when David and Grace entered. White robed, blank-faced Davids were hanging from suspension poles along the walls. A few were standing at attention on the floor of the room, their bodies in various states of repair.

A man's voice broke over the chatter. It was strangely familiar.

"Oh yeah. I've seen that malfunction before," the man said. "We used to call it the Quimp Shuffle."

The techs all laughed again. Mario made a reply that David couldn't make out, causing another round of laughter among the techs. They were obviously taking a liking to the new man.

Dad was standing in the middle of the group, arms crossed, smiling at his new employee, who had his back to David. When Dad noticed David and Grace he beckoned them over.

"Grace, David," he said. "Come meet the newest member to the Cybertronics family."

David approached, a sudden growing feeling inside, that he was walking right into one of Sy's 'unknown unknowns'. The new man turned and smiled. David's recognition was instant. But the man obviously did not share it.

"Hi, I'm Stuart King," he said, offering his hand "It's good to meet you."

David reached out slowly, fighting to keep a straight face.

"Nice to meet you too," he said hoping his voice wouldn't break; hoping nobody would sense the feeling of unreality that had suddenly fallen on him.

"David, eh?" Stuart said. "Well that should be an easy name to remember around here."

Laughter erupted again.

"Are you a sim?"

David flinched. What had the man just asked him?

"Uh… what?" he said.

"I said, out for a swim?" Stuart repeated, gesturing to David's attire.

"Oh, yeah," David said with a nervous laugh. He held up his RC controls. "Uh, out flying my RC copter. Birthday gift from my Dad."

"Ah," Stuart said. "Great." There was a quick awkward silence. Then the man turned and shook Graces hand.

"Good to see you again, Grace" he said.

"Same here, Stuart." She said. "Welcome aboard." She stepped back and shot David a concerned look from the corner of her eye.

"Oh," Stuart said, as if an after thought, "This is my daughter."

The girl was standing at the edge of the gathering, intently studying one of David's silent brethren.

"Honey?" Stuart called.

When the girl realized she was being beckoned, she turned and approached. David remembered her face well. But she had grown. They both had.

"Well, introduce yourself, sweetheart," Stuart said.

"Hey," she said, holding a delicate hand out to David. "I'm Amanda."

David took her hand but could not meet her eyes. He was feeling as out of place and disoriented as the first time they'd met; seven years ago, when she had found him standing among the doomed rejects in the pigpen.

At the Flash Fair

Where her father had worked.

"My name is David," he said.

_(cont...)_


	26. Chapter 26

_The introduction of Amanda was originally only going to make up one segment of this chapter. But her conversation with David took on a life of it's own and I decided to let it write itself. _** - **_Pz_**  
**

**Alive**

**Book 2**

**Pt3**

**1**

_The Flesh Fair._

David would never forget it.

'_A Celebration Of Life'_ had been the subtitle on the marquee. The tragic irony of those words was only becoming apparent to him now. Of all the events of his former life, the memory of the savage ritual was the most easily recalled. The horror of it was second only to the horror of watching his Mother drive away, leaving him to the mercy of the cold world. The memory was so nestled in his heart that he had almost been unable to work with the gang when they'd tagged the customers in the parking lots outside events.

The explosions. The cheering. The slaughter. Why?

What feral force still lay in the dark pits of men's hearts where none dare look? What evolutionary fluke drove their species, the one to which he now belonged, to seek pleasure in the destruction of others?

Long before the first Mecha had walked upright, Orga had turned their hatred on themselves. David had read about those events in history books: the pogroms, the genocides, the lynching; senseless slaughter of those considered 'the other'. Be it racial, religious or whatever imaginary scapegoat had becomes their target, there was a beast lurking deep in the psyche of humanity, one to which they had repeatedly lost control.

He had felt the call of that beast on his own heart. It had first woken in him when he had still been Mecha and had come to the End Of The World searching for the miracle that would make him real. But he had instead been confronted with the terrible truth. He was not unique. He was just another toy. And that realization had driven him to kill his brother.

And then the day he'd met Martin on the basketball court, the beast had called him again. Martin had chased him away, threatened him, denied his existence. Afterwards he felt the darkness churning in him. The desire for vengeance.

Was it still there, this hungry beast? Was it sleeping deep inside in his young Orga heart, waiting for the right moment to spring from its depths and destroy his enemy?

Even though David was now flesh and blood, and knowing that his Mecha companions had felt no pain, seeing Amanda and thinking of that night at the Flesh Fair brought to surface resentments that had been dormant ever since. Even now that he was able to digest and understand the writings of their philosophers, their Jesus and their Buddha; and their moral leaders, the Gandhis and Martin Luther Kings among them… now understanding them in a way he never could have when he his heart was fiber, their words still gave no him no answers to the question of Orga brutality, nor solace in being spared from their fires.

Amanda had been there that night, a child in the midst of the killing. Innocent and unassuming. Her bright eyes observing all. Understanding nothing.

"_Is he a toy boy," _she had asked her father as he'd scanned David in the cage where they'd held the doomed until their merciless deaths; the place where she had caught Teddy and found David. She had saved him, hadn't she? If not for her youthful love of toys, she would never have pursued Teddy, and David would have met his fate with his damaged and abandoned brethren.

It was a child's love that drove her. It was a child's love that had saved him.

But she was no longer a little girl. She had become a young woman, beautiful and confident. It was like some exotic creature from a world that David had not yet experienced, had flown in through his window. Her long black hair was twisted in twin braids that trailed down either side of her dark jump suit. It was stylish and tight, like the kids he had met in Rouge City had been wearing. Dark lip-gloss accentuated her soft smile, and contrasted against the fair complexion of her skin. She looked like a cute anime doll, walking slowly through his room, humming to herself, hands folded daintily behind her back as she scanned his collection of books and music, his large RC copter parked in the center of the room.

David was surprised when both his father and Amanda's father, Stuart, suggested the kids spend some time alone.

"Why don't you show the young lady around, David," he'd said. Stuart had decided it was a good idea. After all, they were gong to be living in the same building. Might as well decide if they were going to be getting along.

Grace was the most skeptical of the idea, but had not intervened. She had noticed David's hesitant reaction when he'd been introduced to Amanda, but naturally she couldn't have known the reason. She had probably come to some base conclusion that she would confront him with later, and then apologize when he told her the truth of it all.

And he would eventually tell her the truth of it. He had to tell someone.

**2**

Amanda's inspections finally brought her to David's digital little brother, sitting quietly on the couch. It was the prototype 500 model that David had been coaching on the roof the day before. He had been experimenting with it, seeking new ways to decrease its reaction time. Now it was on silent standby, staring blankly ahead, its gaze set on nothing.

"So, what do you do around here?" she said without looking at David. He was sitting at his desk, at his console, waiting for a response to a message he had sent minutes before. He shrugged in reply, and then realized she wouldn't see this reaction.

"Nothing, really," he said, trying to shake off the disorienting effect of her presence.

She turned to face him.

"Nothing?" She gestured to his impressive library, his collection of music, instruments and of robotic toys. "Seems like a lot of nothing going on," she said.

"Well, I mean… I read a lot. Work on Mecha... and play my lute."

Amanda's brows lifted. "Yeah, I was noticing your music. Lot of old stuff in there. Do you listen to anything from this century?"

David laughed. "Some of it, yeah. The hard stuff is kind of irritating but I like a lot of ska and neo-prog."

"That's ok, I guess," she said. "I'm into techcore stuff, like The Zoobots, and Bigazz Beats. Saw 'em last year at The Zenith. You into them?"

"Not really familiar," David admitted.

"Oh," Amanda said. "Nix on that conversation. So what else do you do around here?"

"Well, I fly my RC. Go diving with my friends sometimes."

"Friends?" she said, her curiosity piqued.

"I mean Skipper and Eddie. Sometimes my old friends Hiro and Chiyoko pass through too," David explained. "But they're old. There's not really any other kids around… except you… now."

"So, no parties? No clubs?" Amanda said.

"Oh, there's parties… sort of," David said.

The girl's expression showed she needed an explanation of 'sort of'.

"I mean, the scavengers have parties," he explained. "Sometimes they'll even shuttle in a band or two, and make a whole weekend of it. But it can get pretty wild and Dad doesn't let me go to those things."

"Scavengers." Amanda said the word as if she was talking about some alien species. "No kids. No Clubs. No parties. I can't even send a text to my friends without it being authorized by some security snoop! What did I get myself into?"

David smirked. "Welcome to the End Of The World."

The joke didn't seem to impress Amanda.

"And you've lived in this boring place all your life?" she said, a sincere look of pity on her face.

"No," David replied quickly. "I've only been here a few years. I'm …" He stopped and sighed, as if he was making a dark admission. "I'm adopted." he said at last. "I don't really know who my parents are" He spoke these words as if they were something painful to talk about, hoping she would ask no further questions. He didn't really want to embark on the elaborate lie that had been concocted to explain his presence.

But Amanda only hummed a non-committal acknowledgement, like the sound one makes when they hear of a tragedy far removed.

"Don't feel bad," she said. "I never knew my mother. She died before I was born."

David thought about this for a moment.

"Wait… did you say..." he rubbed his forehead. "How exactly did that work?"

"It's a joke, d'uh" Amanda said, rolling her eyes. "How could she die before I was born? Her and Dad split up when I was still little. I'm lucky the CLA didn't snatch me up."

"Oh," David said, a little confused by her humor. "Strange thing to joke about," he said.

Amanda shrugged it off and turned her attention back to the silent 500.

"Must be weird," she said softly, as if speaking to herself.

"What," David said. Amanda was pensive a moment, then turned to face him.

"Living around all these toys," she said. "No people your age. Only old scavengers and nomads for friends."

"I like it," David said, trying not to sound defensive, but knowing he was failing miserably. "I have plenty to keep me occupied. I am not bored at all… and I can go inland anytime I want." It was a lie, but something about her flippant attitude annoyed him.

Why though, did he feel the need to impress her?

"And I have a Stratocruiser," he said, unable to stop himself from seeking her approval. "Just got it for my birthday."

This caught her attention.

"Wow. Only sixteen and you have your own Stratocruiser!" she said. "Hey. It's still light outside, let's go for a quick jump!"

"Well," David said with a deflated sigh. "I don't really have my license yet. Actually… I don't even have a permit."

Amanda gave him a knowing look, one that suggested she'd known he wouldn't have a license; that it was probably the reason she had responded the way she had. He couldn't help but think she was playing with his head.

"So I guess you're a typical rich kid after all," Amanda said with a snicker. "All that cool stuff and no idea what to do with it."

David never really thought of himself as a 'rich kid', but realized that she was right. And this was probably how she saw him, wasn't it…. some spoiled brat? Was this the reason for her subtle sarcasm?

He was trying to think of a suitable comeback when she sat down heavily next to the silent boybot and draped her arm over its shoulders. It was a comical gesture and she cocked her head to the side with a big smile to show that she was being intentionally funny.

David let himself chuckle.

"You know, before my Dad got into programming he used to work at a Flesh Fair," Amanda said. "Since I was just a little girl he spent all his time blowing these thing up."

David almost said _'I know'_ but quickly stopped himself. "Really?" he said instead.

"It was a long time ago," Amanda said. She was quiet a moment, as if thinking back to those days. Then she hugged the Mecha boy close and sighed.

"They used to destroy little bots like you," she said into the 500's ear. "They'd strap you to a wheel and saw you in half, or shoot you from a cannon into a big old chopping blade." She chuckled, and kissed the doll warmly on the cheek.

David looked away, uncomfortable with the way she was making light of the horrible event.

"Why did he quit," he said, in an attempt to change the subject. He thought he might already know the answer.

"One night one of these little guys got caught by the nuts who used to chase down strays for the show," Amanda said. She crossed one leg over the other as she spoke, kicking her foot up and down in childish manner. It was the first time that night she'd done something that indicated her youth. "We called them 'The Hounds'," she said "They were all these old crazy biker guys. Rode these scary cycles with wolf faces. They were insane! Most of them were tranc-heads. Always getting busted for drugs."

She laughed at the memory and then started speaking rapidly.

"Oh-oh, and there was this one guy named Zoot Matterhorn! Really! Zoot Matterhorn! I mean, I don't know it if was his real name or if he changed it to that, but either way, what kind of name is that?" She put up her hands in mock exasperation, and paused as if waiting for an answer. But she continued before David could say anything.

"Anyway, he was a stunt rider in movies before he joined the fair, so he was really good. He used to do this routine in the show … well not every show because insurance was too high to do every show, but in the big shows, he'd suspend a Mecha by wires over the arena, then he'd strap a chainsaw to his arm, and jump off a ramp, flip over in the air, then slice the robot in two with the chainsaw, and land his bike on the other ramp! Crazy huh?"

She laughed again. But her laugh faded when David didn't join in.

He smiled politely. "Yeah, pretty wild I guess," he said with a shrug.

To her credit Amanda seemed to get the point. She sat up straight with an apologetic look on her face.

"Yeah, I guess you think that's pretty bad," she said. "Seeing as you build them. But it wasn't new ones like this." She pinched the David 500 on the cheek. "It was just scraps and old iron. Rejects the transies in the forest used for whatnot. It's not like they served any purpose anymore."

David wanted to ask how that was any better. But kept his tongue.

"So, you were telling me why your Dad quit the show," he said.

"Oh, yeah," Amanda replied slowly. Her brow pinched as if she was trying to figure out what she'd said to upset David. Then she continued.

"Well, anyway… one night the Hounds caught one of these little things and threw it in the pigpen… uh that's where we kept the junk bots for the show. And then …" she stopped again, seeming to retrace the events in her mind. "I was chasing this Supertoy that crawled out of the lost and found, and it ran to the Mecha boy. And that was weird because it seemed like the bear belonged to the boy… and I never saw a robot with a toy before.

"Anyway, that's when I saw the boy in the cage and went and got Dad. When he saw it he wanted to keep it, so he could study it I guess. He said there was something strange about it. Something… unique."

David almost flinched at the word. The memory of Stuart's curious gaze came back to him.

"_You're one of a kind. You know that?"_

"But the guy who ran the show said no way!" Amanda said.

David knew who she was talking about. He suppressed the memory of the man being immolated in a pyre that he had built for David. If he thought too long on it, he was certain his facial expression would give him away.

"Lord Johnson-Johnson," Amanda said with a sigh. She leaned back and shook her head, her pretty face twisting as if she'd tasted something sour. "Damn, he was an asshole."

David tried not to laugh, but the words were too comical coming from her innocent looking face. He guffawed and smiled earnestly for the first time since she'd arrived.

"Well, he was!" Amanda said defensively, misunderstanding David's laughter.

"Ok. I take your word for it," he chuckled,. "But that still doesn't explain why your Dad quit. I mean, how does he go from blowing them up to being part of an R&D team? Just because he met a fancy new prototype?"

Amanda hesitated, as if she was suddenly unsure if she even knew how to answer the question.

"It was the David thing," she said. "It was really weird. I mean, back then there was nothing around like it. Dad was kind of blown away. You know it ruined JJ's career."

"JJ?" David said.

"Johnson-Johnson," she explained with a look in her eye that suggested it should have been obvious. "He used to hate it when I called him that. So naturally I called him that all the time. But anyway, he strapped the boybot to an acid bath and started doing his typical blowhard routine, trying to get the crowd all riled up… and then they turned on him. Weirdest thing. I guess they thought the boy was real like Dad and I did. They started tearing the place apart.

"Dad actually helped the Mecha escape with some other rogue. A loverbot if I remember. And then some people from Cybertronics called the show, asking if we'd seen any robots looking like a boy. Dad told them it escaped. They were pretty mad. It must have been some kind of prototype."

Amanda stopped, a look of incredulity on her face.

"Why am I telling you this?" she said. "You have to know about it, right?"

David shrugged. "I wasn't here back then."

"Oh, yeah. Adopted. I forgot," Amanda said. "Sorry."

David made a dismissive face. "Soooo, anyway," he said. "What happened next?"

"Oh, I don't know. They asked Dad where they went and Dad said the loverbot would probably look for customers, and the toy boy would probably just follow. I mean, they had this weird friendship thing going on. The boybot. The loverbot. The teddy bear. Dad said he never saw anything like that before… robots bonding. It wasn't programmed either. They weren't even the same manufacturers."

'_So that's how they'd figured I'd wind up in Rouge City,'_ David thought. They guessed correctly that Joe would wind up there, but thought he'd be looking for customers. Hell, they'd probably known that he had been deployed there before he started working Haddonfield! David kept his stunned realization from reaching his face as Amanda continued.

"Something about that Mecha boy kind of geeked my father, and he couldn't destroy them anymore." she said. "It's not like he forgot they were robots, or anything… but that little machine had this really weird vibe about it. Hell, I wanted to keep it."

"Your own little boy toy, eh?" David replied. When he saw the dark look that grew in her eyes he realized he he'd made an unintended suggestion.

"I was only eight years old," Amanda said.

David flinched. "No, I meant… I mean, I didn't mean to suggest that -" But then he realized that he wasn't sure what he meant and wasn't sure if what he'd meant would mean what she thought it meant.

Fortunately his stumbling apology was interrupted by a beep on his console. He turned to see a window opening on his screen, and a familiar smiling face..

"_David you there," _said Hiro.

"Who is that?" Amanda said. "One of your scavenger pals?"

David glanced at her with an apology in his eyes.

"Sorry, but I'll need a moment," he said.

"No prob," Amanda replied and turned her attention back to the 500.

David sighed. "I mean, I need a moment… alone." he explained.

Amanda's eyebrows raised in surprise. She rose quickly "Well then," she said, strutting to the door, looking over her shoulder. "I guess I'll be on my way."

"_David? You getting me? Hello?"_ said the monitor.

"We can talk later, Amanda, if you want," David said apologetically, surprised by her reaction, fully expecting her to slam the door on her way out.

But when the girl opened the door, Teddy was standing there. The Supertoy looked back and forth between them a few times before it spoke.

"Is it ok to come in now, David?" Teddy said.

Amanda turned skeptical eyes on David. For one flash of a moment it seemed that she remembered him. But when she pointed at the toy in the doorway and shook her head, David realized he had misread her incredulity.

"Really?" she said. "A teddy bear? I mean, aren't you a little… old?"

"Uh… it's not mine. It's his!" David lied, pointing at his little Mecha brother on the couch. "All the new Davids come with their own Teddy… so we can… bond them …early."

_"David!_" said the monitor.

"I seeee," Amanda replied in a voice that suggested she didn't believe a word of it. A million questions seemed to form behind her eyes. But she apparently decided they could wait. She clucked her tongue.

"I am going to have to get you out of these old ruins," she said, "and teach you a few things about how to be a spoiled rich kid." With that, she turned and left the room.

"Hiro!" David said, opening the connection quickly before the man logged off. "Thanks for calling back."

_"How ya been kid? Good to see ya."_

"Fine," David said. "Listen Hiro, this is sort of an emergency and I don't have a lot of time for talk. Sorry, but I need a favor. I need you to back up a little story I told Skipper. Okay?"

Hiro paused, lifting a skeptical brow.

_"You mean a little 'lie' you told Skipper? Don't you?"_

"Wellll…ok, yeah " David admitted. "It's a lie. But it's important… and I can't tell you why… right now. Pleeease?"

"_What a tangled web we weave, David. What a tangled web." _

David put on his 'guilty-kid-trying-to-look-innocent' face again.

"It's important, Hiro. Or you know I wouldn't ask."

Hiro's expression softened.

"_One of these days that helpless kid look isn't gonna work anymore,"_ he said with a laugh._ "So what kind of jam are you in this time?"_

_(cont…)_


	27. Chapter 27

**Alive**

**Book 2**

**Pt4**

**1**

"You don't want to push her, David. Take your time. Be gentle. She looks tough but she's really fragile. You're fragile too. You are young and impulsive. Rush into things too fast and you will make mistakes. People will get hurt."

David didn't respond. He was thinking. Calculating.

"David! Are you paying attention to what I am saying?"

"Yes, yes. I heard everything," he said impatiently. "We've been through all this."

"That was just a simulator. This is for real," said Ariel. He sat back and let David take the controls again.

"Take her up to 500 feet," Ariel said. "Slow and steady."

David scrolled the thrusters, feeling the craft respond instantly. He moved slowly beyond the Cybertronics building, out over the water and over the top of the great weeping heads of the Watson Towers. The sky above was a clear crisp blue, the blinding golden eye of the sun dampened by the polarizing effect of the Stratocruiser's canopy. Ahead, the sunken towers of Manhattan were darkened by each other's shadows. David banked away, headed for the open ocean.

"Forward at 80 knots," Ariel said.

80 knots? David thought he was ready to take her much faster than that. But he wasn't about to complain. He scrolled the thrusters and felt the craft jump ahead.

He was flying! Flying!

The words of a poem came to him, one that he'd chanced upon while browsing the works of 20th century poets.

_Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,_

_and danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings!_

Once again David experienced an excitement he never could have felt in his former life. The sensation of flight had been just data then. Only his implanted love for Monica had been more than precisely calculated responses to stimuli.

But this? This was way better than any simulator! No digital trickery could catch the feel of the g-force pushing him into the seat, the way the hum of his thrusters rode up his back. The gut level thrill of climbing into the sky.

They'd only been airborne for about twenty minutes so far. Ariel had been impressed with how well David handled lift off and hovering. They'd practiced stop and go maneuvers to allow David to feel the difference between the simulator and a real craft. Now they were flying circles over the training pylon set atop the Cybertronics building. The pylon set a digital training course, monitored his training session and threw up an occasional virtual problem for him to overcome.

David had to suppress an urge to whoop for joy each time he banked high over the weeping lions and arched out over the open ocean to come around again. He tried to keep his eyes ahead, as he'd been instructed, but couldn't help but sneak a peek down onto the roof of the Cybertronics building when they passed.

Amanda was down there, appearing like a little toy in the distance, waving her arms as he whizzed by. David fought the urge to wave back. Ariel would scold him and Amanda wouldn't see him from this height anyway.

"We're moving into another bank, David. Did you check your FPI?" Ariel said.

"All clear," David said, setting his gaze ahead before Ariel noticed he wasn't looking and scolded him. The Flight Path Indicator was a short range training radar, that told him if anything was in his path, or might be passing through the path he had preset for coming out of the bank. When he was licensed and official, he would be logged into a central traffic hub and would know exactly who was where at all times. But as a student he would rely on short-range onboard indicators.

"If all is clear, then what's that?" Ariel said.

David glanced at the meter on his panel. It was glowing faintly yellow at 2 o'clock.

"Ahh!" David moaned. Something was coming in slowly from the southwest Whatever it was wouldn't be a danger yet, but the computer was telling him it could be if he didn't reset his course. Probably a shuttle, he thought, since no commercial airliners were allowed over the city. It could be as far off as 10 miles. But that distance could close quickly.

David adjusted his wheel, hoping the warning glow would go away. But instead, it started flashing bright amber and the Stratocruiser's navigation system warned him in a soft voice:

"_Traffic alert. 1 o'clock at 5 miles and closing."_

"What-what-what?" David yelled. How did…?"

Ariel made an oddly human sigh. David hated that sound. It was the sound of disappointment.

"Set her to auto," Ariel said.

"Hold on, Ariel," David said. "It's just a minor calculation. I'll correct it."

"Set her to Auto, David," the Mecha pilot repeated.

He didn't yell. He didn't need to. His tone of voice said it all.

David clicked on the autopilot and felt the Stratocruiser slow as the training pylon took over and made slight adjustments in its course. The amber light stopped flashing, changed into a faint glow and then disappeared. The craft picked up speed again. It came out of the bank smoothly and shot quickly over the water.

"Alright, slow her down," Ariel said.

"Sorry," David said. He took the craft out of auto and slowed to a hover. "Don't know what I was thinking."

"You weren't," Ariel said. The Mecha pilot twisted in the seat to face David, a stern expression on his face.

"I fly as a function, David. It is my task. I neither like nor dislike it. It is what I was designed to do. I do it without passion and I do it well.

"You, on the other hand, fly for enjoyment. And because of that, the thrill you get from the sensation of flight can be a distraction. Focus! Put the thrill aside and concentrate on what you're doing, or someday you will find yourself in trouble. At 500 feet, that's not good. At 5000 ft there is only one kind of trouble… and that is bad trouble."

"Oh, c'mon, Ariel," David chuckled. "I know I'm not ready for altitudes yet. It's my first day. And it wasn't a collision alert. Just a traffic warning. I just made a little miscalculation."

Ariel slammed his open hand on the dash. David pulled back, surprised by the Mecha's aggression.

"There is no such thing a _little_ miscalculation," Ariel yelled. "You're right or you're wrong. It's the same as the difference between alive and dead!"

David was perplexed. Ariel's anger was inappropriate. In some quarters it would be considered illegal. But he quickly realized that it must have been something Dad programmed; a little personality tweak, to make sure he would take things seriously. And he also realized that Ariel would surely be recording everything that happened, so Dad could review it later.

"Sorry, Ariel" David said. "You're right. I wasn't paying attention. I won't let it happen again."

But the Mecha wasn't finished with whatever scolding routine Dad had implanted.

"This is not a toy, David. Once you're an adult licensed pilot and the training restraints are removed from your thrusters, this craft will be able to break Mach 1. At that speed there are no small mistakes. We were only in training mode and you still caught a warning alarm. Then you adjusted straight into the projected path of the object. You make an absent-minded mistake like that at cruising speed, and you're not coming home. Ever again. Understand?"

"Understood," David said obediently.

"I hope you do, because I don't want to be the one that tells your father his son went down."

"That'll never happen, Ariel. I promise." David said. He knew he was really speaking to his father. "Let's go for another bank. I'll get it right this time," he said.

But Ariel shook his head.

"Enough for today," he said. "Practice on the simulator and we'll give it another try in a few days"

David was ready to argue, but decided it would not be the best course of action. He scrolled the thrusters gently and began moving slowly towards home. As they neared the Cybertronics building, he could see a small shape by the landing pad on the roof. She was dressed in bright blue, jumping up and down and waving her arms over her head.

Ariel gave David a knowing glance.

"And perhaps the young lady can find something else to do when you're training. It should help you keep your mind on where you're going."

David made a sheepish grin.

"Ok," he said.

"Good," said Ariel. "Now let's see how well you can land her."

**2**

Ariel was right. Amanda had become a distraction. But even though the Mecha pilot was one of his father's finest personal creations, and functioned with degree of cognizance and sentient simulation exceeded only by the 'David' and sister line, 'Darlene'; Ariel still wouldn't have sensed the budding relationship between him and Cybertronics' new teenage resident on its own.

No. Dad had put that data in its head.

It had been a week since the conversation with Amanda in his room the first night she'd arrived. At first David had wanted to tell Grace about where he'd first met the girl, about that night she'd found him among the rejects, set to be destroyed; about how her father's curiosity and stubbornness had played a part in his survival. But in the end, David decided to keep it to himself. Even now he wasn't sure why. Perhaps he felt it would color Grace's opinion of the small King family, the father and daughter that had once destroyed Mecha for a living. And David did not want that.

Since she had arrived, he had come to realize how little he knew about the lives of regular teenagers. They'd been something outside of his experience and, thus far, out of his concern. Theirs was another realm, far beyond the watery horizon, beyond the ceaseless rumble of the lions, where Orga youth roamed like brightly feathered birds, dancing, fighting and loving, engaging in their mysterious transactions and intrigues.

And now, in the presence of this girl, for the first time he was wondering what he might be missing out on.

Who were they, this bright flock whose language and fashions evolved at a pace too quick for even the best minds of science to equate, or even follow? Like the ones that mobbed the trendy inland clubs that he was not yet allowed to visit, the ones that gathered in cyberspace at the sites his father had disallowed him in fear of his being discovered by those who might wish him harm. The ones whose tweets and videos he occasionally eavesdropped on, and then quickly became bored with the superficiality of it all.

But had he misunderstood them?

Perhaps they just looked superficial from a distance, like watching someone dance in silence. With the music off, it all appeared as the frantic gyrations of a mad man. But with the music up, you understood the rhythm that drove them and the melody to which their faces so comically contorted. Perhaps if he understood to what drummer they danced, he would understand them.

He did have some inkling. He was a boy after all. A 'real' boy now. His flesh felt the same pains and pleasures. His blood ran hot or cold with the same passions, and his heart beat with the same desires.

But he was an outsider. Aloof. Unattached. Alien.

His head was filled with theories, equations, and philosophical pondering. He spent silent hours watching waves crest and break against the foot of his Manhattan home; watching flocks of birds form and disperse above the silent towers; ever looking for a hint of meaning in the seemingly random patterns they formed. He paced his room at night, reading aloud to himself from the works of Kant and Siddhartha, Shakespeare and Kerouac. He played games with his Mecha brothers, and formed pet theories on the processing of their maturation to true sentience. Often he simply lay abed, Teddy by his side, losing himself in the works of Bach and Beethoven, Stravinsky and Bernstein.

But he'd never even danced with a girl. Apart from that single kiss from the Wiz Kid, which still loomed large in his sense memory, he'd never felt another's lips on his.

Had he come all this way; donned the mortal cloak of flesh and blood, just to become another sort of simulation?

Sure he looked like a teenage Orga. But it was as if he was from another world; or another time. His favorite music was centuries old. The books he cherished part of a literary tradition that was all but lost to the modern age. Even among his friends and the scavengers with whom he shared some time, he was barely more than a spectator. They were older, world-worn, most having only a rudimentary education. They loved him and he enjoyed their company. But none of them lived at the frothing edge of society, where creatures like Amanda roamed.

She was an enigma to him. In her company he now understood how little he knew about the fairer gender. And more importantly, about himself… about how 'unordinary' he really was. He often found himself at a loss for words in her presence.

Like the day after her arrival, when she'd found him on the roof. He'd been standing in the faint rays of dawn, silently watching flocks of birds gather and disperse over the sunken buildings of Manhattan. Autumn was coming on, and the air was already chilled. Cool breezes washed over the rooftop, carrying the distant call of gulls, and the crisp salt tang of the ocean.

"You're up early," David had said, loudly to compete with the rumble of the lion's tears. He was surprised and happy to see her. She was wrapped in a large coat, hugging herself against the morning chill.

"How do you know what time I usually get up," she'd replied sleepily. "Making assumptions, are we?" There was recrimination in her voice, but a smile on her lips, which had yet to be painted for the day. Later David would notice the importance of appearances to her, and that she usually applied her makeup before even leaving her room. He would have once thought this simple vanity, but over the days he would come to love this about her.

"No assumptions," David had said. "I just thought you'd be sleeping in on your first day."

Amanda stretched and yawned. David tried to pretend he wasn't watching her every move.

"I was raised in a traveling circus," she said. "Everybody was up before dawn. So, for me, this is sleeping in."

David hummed an acknowledgement and returned to watching the flocks of migrating birds. Amanda sat quietly next to him for a time, before inquiring what he was up to.

"I'm looking for reoccurring patterns," David replied. He then explained that he was seeking predictability in the forming and disunity of flocks of birds. He went on to explain the basic tenets of Chaos Theory, the principles of randomness in organized systems, and then told her his budding theory about how living systems might display similar predictable patterns.

"Living systems would have the same type of predictable responses as non-living. Like, an avalanche of rocks rolling down a hill would follow a certain predictable course based on things the terrain, um… gravitation, angle of decline … stuff like that. They would also have a high degree of randomness due to unpredictable events… like the angle one rock hits another, which causes that to hit another and on and on; which eventually affects the course of the whole avalanche.

"But rocks aren't alive. They don't desire to roll down the hill." He stopped and faced her. "Did you know that was once a scientific theory? When science was young that is; some had theories that inanimate objects had will?"

"Fascinating," Amanda said with a strange smile. David found himself lost in it for a moment.

"You're being sarcastic,," he said in what he hoped was a humorous tone.

"No," she said with convincing sincerity. "Please. Continue."

David paused a moment, then continued.

"Living systems, birds for example, would have similar predictable and unpredictable patterns, but based on a different set of rules. Stimulus and response as opposed to the pure physics. Since birds are aware and capable of changing their behavior, the flock patterns display the democratic will of the flock. So you'd need a different model for the randomness in their organization."

Amanda hummed appreciatively.

"Like trying to understand why one song is a hit and another a flop, even though they use the same rhythms and the same chords," she said.

David was surprised by the beautiful simplicity of the analogy.

"Exactly," he said. "Predictability in trends of fashion would be pretty much the same as in flocks of birds."

"And I just thought you were enjoying the morning air," Amanda said.

David laughed.

"It's not really a theory yet," he said, "more of an idea that's still forming."

"So what do you intend to do with this theory… or idea or whatever it is," she asked.

David shrugged.

"I don't really plan to do anything with it," he said "I… I just want to … to understand."

Amanda stared at him, her face expressionless. David stared back, waiting for her to make some snide comment about the way he was squandering his rich kid status. But she only rose and yawned and suggested that breakfast was in order.

And thus had their relationship continued over the days. He, going about his usual business, his studies, his lute, his exercise and working on his Mecha brothers; and she doing her studies during the day, spending dinner time with her father in the spacious rooms that had been allotted them, and chatting with her inland friends at night, on the sites that had been approved by Cybertronics security.

Their chance meetings were comprised of stiff halting conversations, where the gulf between them was obvious.

Then he had woken one morning with her on his mind. And she had stayed on his mind all that day; distracting him from his work; bringing long pauses to his lute practice, where he would stare out of his window, the sense memory of her presence playing in his mind.

Once only Monica had held that distinction.

This morning, Ariel had come to him and told him today was the day he'd been waiting for. Even in his excitement to be airborne in his very special toy, David had thought first of Amanda, certain she would love to watch his training.

**3**

"Not bad for a first flight," Ariel said as they exited the Stratocruiser. "We'll go up again Saturday morning if my schedule is clear." Then he walked away, leaving David and Amanda alone on the roof.

She was dressed in blue today: blue tank top and form fitting jeans, her face accentuated by lines of light cyan, and blue flowers nestled in her hair, where her twin braids met her head. The scent of her perfume was like a spring breeze blowing over a field of flowers. It mingled strangely with the brisk odor of the ocean. She walked thoughtfully around the craft, taking it in for the first time, it seemed. As if it hadn't really existed before she'd seen it fly.

"Don't get too close to those thrusters," David warned. "They're still hot."

"Really?" Amanda replied, her face wide with shock. "Thanks for telling me. I was just about to stick my hand inside one of them."

David sighed.

"Sorry," he said. "I just didn't know what you knew… or didn't know what you didn't know about…"

"So you roam among the birds now," Amanda said, interrupting his apology.

"Yes," David replied. "I have slipped the surly bonds of earth."

"And danced in the sky on silver wings," Amanda said.

"Not bad," David said, surprised.

"It's this thing regular kids do, called school," she replied evenly. "They make us learn a lot of old stuff that no one cares about anymore."

"I wouldn't say 'no one'," David said.

"No one with a life," she suggested as she went back to inspecting his Stratocruiser.

David had to stifle his reply. It would have been angry and defensive; and he was getting tired of defending himself to her. To her credit Amanda sensed her breach of decorum and turned to face him.

"Ok, that was a bit out of line," she admitted, eyes cast downward. "I wasn't being serious."

David knew this was as close to an apology as he could expect. Oddly, he was ok with that.

"Anyway, it's 'laughter-silver wings'," he said, correcting her. "I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth, and danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings. Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds, and done a hundred things you have not dreamed of…." That wasn't the end of the poem, but he stopped there, and let the words linger.

"Then again, maybe I shouldn't be quoting him," David said with a chuckle. "He died very young… and in a plane crash, if I recall."

Amanda was quiet a moment.

"Sad," she said. Then she donned a mischievous grin. "So, try this one, Mister Bookworm," she said. "We come pressed for time, in the wake of our father's delusions, to dance on his grave of shattered dreams. Flames in a storm. Cling to what ignites you. 'Cause nothing really matters but the moments that you burn."

David pondered the words and then shrugged.

"That's pretty wild," he said. "But you win. I don't know it."

"Of course you wouldn't. It's from this century," Amanda said with a laugh. "They're called 'Flesh Rite', and they're playing at the Nexus in a week. Wanna go hang with some normal people for a change?"

David ignored the 'normal people' jab, feeling an unexpected surge of excitement at the invitation.

"Uh… sounds great," he said. "But, I'll have to talk to my Dad."

"So talk to your Dad," she said, rolling her eyes. "Tell him you need to get out of this boring place before it turns you into a robot."

**4**

Something like the old Alan Hobby had began to resurface in the man who was his creator and now his Father. The miracle of David's incarnation as flesh and blood had becoming an accepted fact, and although it did not, and would never make sense to him, Alan Hobby seemed to have found a comfortable place for this reality inside his logical brain.

He was older now, a little grayer, and even more internalized than he had been when David had first arrived. He rarely shared what was going on inside his well endowed head, and then only with those in whose confidence he felt most comfortable.

David found him in his study, dictating codes into a schematic on his monitor.

"Son," he said smiling when he noticed David enter.

"Dad," David said as his creator rose and embraced him. They hugged for a moment and then Hobby pulled back and regarded David with proud eyes.

"Ariel gave you passing marks today," he said. "Good boy."

David shrugged. "I screwed up coming out of a bank. Set course into an oncoming craft. Only pulled a warning, but if I was at speed, it would have been a collision alert."

His father waved it off. "Distractions," he said with a laugh. He pinched David's cheek.

"She's pretty, eh?" Hobby said with a mischievous wink. "And smart."

David looked away, trying to hide his smile. His father chuckled knowingly.

"Of all the challenges you will face in life, David, women will be the most perplexing," he said. "And the most intriguing."

David laughed but quickly grew serious.

"There's so much I don't know, Dad," David said. "I spend so much time reading and studying. Analyzing things. Then Amanda shows up and… I am starting to think I still don't know crap about just being alive."

Hobby patted his son on the back and went to sit at his desk.

"I am glad you came to that conclusion on your own," he said, setting himself down heavily. "You've been in a sort of cocoon here, and I must admit a lot of it was of my own making. Sure, your situation called for seclusion. But I could have allowed you some presence on the net, or maybe let you have a few friends from the inland. Hell, you managed to sneak out to see Monica and came back unharmed. I could have allowed you more freedom.

"But, I was worried about more than your safety. There were …. other things on my mind. Other concerns."

David considered these words silently. He went to sit in a chair near his Father.

"Amanda invited me inland next week. To go to a concert with her and some of her friends," David said. He didn't try any of the manipulations he used on Eddie or Hiro. They wouldn't work on Alan Hobby.

"Where?" Hobby said.

"It's a club called the Nexus. I looked it up. It looks like a nice place. The band she wants to see is a little louder than I like. But the music is intelligent."

"It's not one of those Crash Jam clubs is it?" Hobby said cautiously. "I understand those places get dangerous."

"Nah. This is for teens," David said. "It looks a little expensive but that probably means it's a little safer."

Hobby considered this quietly for a minute.

"Well, I guess you can't hide here forever. You've got an official identity now, so that shouldn't raise any eyebrows. Apart from some understandable indiscretions in sneaking off to see Monica, I have come to trust you." Hobby sighed and became lost in thought. "But this girl. She is the unknown factor in this equation."

"I know her, Dad," David said suddenly. He hadn't planned to tell his father anything. The words just jumped out, like the way one stretches a leg that's been rested on too long.

"Amanda?" Hobby said. "Where do you know her from?"

"I met her and her father at the Flesh Fair," David said. "They were there the night I got caught…. Back when I was…" he considered his words. "Back before I returned."

"Tell me everything," Hobby said.

David shared the whole tragic story. He spoke haltingly at first and then the words came in a flood. He felt relieved afterwards. He did not know how the secret had been pressuring him until that moment.

Oddly, his father didn't seem surprised. The man looked away, out of the great bay window, where the Cybertronics statue stood. The sky beyond was beginning to darken as day drew to a close. In five years, David had come to know the man well enough to see he had his own admission to share.

"What is it?" David said.

Alan Hobby leaned forward and clasped his hands in his lap, as if he was closing in on himself.

"I had a feeling that you might have met Stuart King," he said. "But not his daughter. That I could not have predicted." He leaned back and faced David.

"I met Stuart at a robotics convention many years ago. Before… before you returned. He was a free lancer when we met, just beginning to study tertiary processing systems. At the time I had no idea who he was. But I guess I was sort of a hero to him and, believe it or not, he actually wanted my autograph."

Hobby stopped to laugh at this. David joined in, but only for a moment. He was anxious to hear the rest.

"I've never had that happen before," Hobby said. He shook his head as if it still confounded him, and then continued.

"Stuart shared with me a story about encountering one of our child simulators at a Flesh Fair; about the way it had changed his life and how he had left the circus and dedicated himself to the field of sentient robotics. I knew right away he was talking about you, David. I knew he had been the man that my team had contacted the night we had called the fair, looking for you.

"But, as I said, this was before you returned. I even forgot about our encounter until a few years ago when I read his name in a trade journal. He'd created quite a reputation for himself over the years. Apparently his experience with the fair had given him some insights into Mecha/Orga relationships and he had developed some fascinating personality modifiers and was making a pretty good living.

"I considered contacting him, having him up for an interview. But he was on contract at the time. When he was free, I snatched him up before Cyberchild could make an offer."

"Why didn't you tell me?" David said. "If you knew he might have seen me before, why didn't you say anything?" He didn't mean to sound accusatory, but couldn't help wondering at his Father's motivations.

"I wasn't worried about his recognizing you, David. It's been years. The similarity between you and your former self is just not there under casual scrutiny."

"But what about me?" David said, angry now. "What about my reaction?"

Hobby held up a hand for patience.

"I wanted to see … no, I _needed _to see how you'd handle it."

"What was this? Some kind of test?" David said. "You're still experimenting on me?" He hadn't meant to shout, but all week long he'd been holding this thing inside him. And now he found out that Hobby had known the whole time.

The man fell quiet again, staring up at the window. When he at last spoke, his voice seemed to be coming from across a gulf of distant memories.

"You have no idea how much you remind me of myself, David." he said. "I was a solitary boy, distant from my peers. Confused by their spontaneity; their mischief. Suspicious of their motivations. By the time I was fifteen, I had decided there was little for me to find in the realm of my Orga brethren. So I had delved into my dreams… into the mysteries around me. I decided robotics was where I belonged. I watched people closely. But always from an emotional distance. My analytical temperament helped me in my field, but it also alienated me from people… and from the purely human aspects of life.

"Then I met your mother…."

Hobby stopped suddenly. Something painful crossed his features. He seemed as if he was about to correct himself. His wife had not been David's mother, not the David that sat before him. She had been the mother of his real son… his _first_ son; in whose image David had been constructed.

But rather than correct his comment, the man simply continued.

"And she changed my life. I wasn't even sure I was capable of loving someone until I met her. Then you were…" he stopped again. This time he did correct himself. "Then my son was born, and a whole new realm of human experience opened to me. Love dominated me. Took me over. I was complete.

"When I lost them both, it changed me again. I went back to being a recluse, lost in my work. Then one day an idea came to me, and _you _were born. As my Mecha creation, at first, and now …" he waved his arm to signify the magic that was beyond his comprehension. "Now you are my son.

"There is no genetic link between us, David. Yet I look at you and I see the same distant, introspective child I once was."

Hobby rolled his chair close to David, and leaned forward. His words came in barely a whisper. It was one of the peculiar things he tended to do when he was about to say something of grave importance. David listened carefully.

"I won't be here forever, son. Someone must man the helm of Cybertronics when I go. I want you to be that person, David. You are my rightful heir, and you will inherit my empire and my fortune. I have decided."

David could not speak. He'd been stunned into silence. But it wasn't from the revelation of the vast fortune he would inherit. It was from the cognition that his father would someday leave him. Of course he knew his father would pass; like all mortals pass. Like he, one day, would pass. But mortality had never been an issue to him. He had not been concerned with its ramifications, or its inevitability.

"Why are you telling me this now," David said when he was able to speak. "Is… is there something I need to know?"

Hobby waved a dismissive hand.

"No, no," he said. "I'm fine. That's not the issue. I am telling you now because I do not want you to be like I was. Reclusive and abstract. I do not want you to live on the cerebral outskirts of life. You've seen the sweat and the dirt, the noise and confusion of life, David. Don't be afraid to go there again, if that's where truth lies. Live among Orga, _as_ Orga. Not some spectator, studying their behavior in order maximize the proficiency of your simulators.

"When, someday, you take the reigns of Cybertronics, I want you to fully understand both worlds; for none other has walked in both worlds, as you have. As Mecha, you were the first of your kind. As Orga, you are the _only_ one of your kind. There is power in that knowledge. It is unique in human history."

Again, David found himself unable to respond. Hobby smiled, knowing the effect his words were having. He brushed his hand gently over David's cheek.

"My son is growing up," he said, as if speaking to himself. Then he stood and checked his watch.

"Well, I've got a teleconference in ten minutes," he said. "Nothing technical. Just one of those glorified pep talks. So, when is this concert?"

It took David a moment to realize he'd been asked a question.

"Oh, um…next Saturday."

"Then the answer is yes," Hobby said. "I'll have to arrange some covert security. You are, after all, the son of a very wealthy man. But yes, you can go inland with your young sweetheart and have some fun. Go dance and play and fight and scheme and do all the things that I neglected in my youth.

"And make sure you let those experiences bring new colors into your world. Bring those colors back home with you. Make them your own, and share them with all those you love."

David lifted a curious eyebrow at his Father.

"Are you sure you're ok, Dad?" he said in gentle mockery. "You haven't been drinking or anything, have you?"

"Never been better," Allan Hobby said, bouncing on his heels. "My son's going on his first date. It's a great day."

"A date?" David said. No wonder he was being so poetic. But it wasn't a date… was it? Even as he thought this, new questions arose in his mind, perplexing and tinged with guilt.

"No, Dad," David said, images of Monica running though his head. "We're just going to a concert... together. That's all."

_(cont…)_


	28. Chapter 28

_**NOTE: **This next segment was osupposed to be a chapter of about 4 to 5k words. I just wanted to take David into Amanda's world and show how it affects him. But when I started imagining the environment, the people and the technology, not to mention the bands and the concert, (which was really fun to write) it took on a life of its own, and I wound up at almost 10k words. When I decided to try and cut it down a bit I wound up adding to it instead! I wrapped up at almost 12k words. So I found a reasonable place to split and made two chapters instead of one. I have been at this all week, editing and adding an cutting and changing names and people, and trying to close all my loose ends. If I try to read it again I'll loose my freekin mind! lol. So any typos or conflicting plot points you encounter will have to be fixed later. Feel free to point them out to me. Thanx for reading. - Pz  
_

**Alive**

**Book 2**

**Pt5**

**1**

David paced back and forth before his console, scrutinizing his image in the multiple windows on his monitor.. His new pants were a sheer dark blue cloth, which hugged his hips, then ballooned a little around his thighs and tapered to grip tight at the top of his black boots. The boots were glossy black, and appeared to be made for hiking. But they were made of a material too light for that purpose. Their numerous straps were superfluous, as were the shiny silver tabs for the laces they did not need. They were stylistic and completely impractical. But they were pretty comfortable, and looked pretty cool. David would admit that.

His shirt fit his body like a satiny blue second skin, accentuating his budding muscularity. His charcoal grey coat, made of simulated leather, balanced the trim fit of the clothing, but caused his shoulders to appear a bit larger than they really were. Perhaps that was the purpose, David guessed.

His pants however, hugged his butt a little more snugly than he was comfortable with. He was starting to understand the purpose behind that too.

Amanda had helped him pick out the suit the day before, just after they'd downloaded their concert tickets on a sub-net site run by a friend of hers named Ice. They'd burned the information into tiny discs and then she'd guided him through the various sites that carried trendy fashion lines.

"This is nice," David said, stopping on a site that carried retro style jeans and shirts. The clothes were casual. Unpretentious. Anonymous. But Amanda had just rolled her eyes and uttered guttural noises in her throat. She'd bumped him aside and taken over the search.

"This is what you need, Mister Bookworm," she said as a page loaded on the screen. David twisted a brow at the outfits hovering in his monitor. They were glossy and chic. Alluring. Provocative. Not his style at all.

"Kind of flashy, aren't they?" he'd said.

"It's the look," Amanda had insisted.

"And they're expensive," David replied, checking the tag price.

The girl had responded by clasping her hands to her temples and tugging her braids in frustration.

"You're rich!" she screamed.

"Okok," David said in surrender.

He still didn't understand how she managed such sway over him, but he'd obidiantly scanned his frame with a wand and uploaded his measurements. Then he hit _'send' _and went through the security procedures for having his items delivered by courier. Because of where he lived, there'd be no way to keep his purchase a secret.

But Dad had wanted him to seek out new 'colors' anyway, had he? Be careful what you wish for.

This morning Alfred had brought the delivery up from the mailroom, and Amanda had waited beyond David's door as he put them on. Now, looking at the way the outfit clung to his body, David was having second thoughts. He actually felt pretty stupid, but didn't want to insult her choices.

She was sitting on the edge of his bed now, toying with the remote for his RC; making the ailerons flex and retract while David pondered a diplomatic way to tell her he'd changed his mind about the suit. The concert was hours away, and he knew she'd berate him for dressing how he really wanted; in his own ragged but comfortable jeans and shirt.

"How fast can this thing go," she asked distractedly, toggling the RC controls so that its small thrusters flipped back and forth.

David ignored the question.

"These pants are a bit tight around the butt," he complained.

"That's the idea, d'uh!" Amanda replied, without looking up. Of course she would say that, David thought. She was dressed in a matching suit. Hers was pink, however, and adorned with glittering sequins on her chest and thighs, that matched the sprinkles of sparkle on her cheeks. But she was a girl, and could get away with such things.

Amanda finally put the remote down and looked at David with a patronizing expression on her annoyingly cute face.

"But of course you can always go in your jeans and t-shirt, and those dirty beat up runners if you prefer," she said. "Just don't expect anyone to talk to you…. anyone important, that is."

David had learned to tolerate her jabs. He'd come to realize it was just her way. Probably the way of her friends too. But then, it wasn't really so much different than the way Sy's crew had communicated; the taunting and verbal jousts that dominated their conversations. Especially The Wiz Kid. And he'd grown used to her, hadn't he?

"So much ado about clothing," he said, frowning at his image in the monitor.

Amanda rolled her eyes, a gesture that David was getting tired of; and seemed about to make some snarky response. But she surprised him by dropping the patronizing look and taking on a serious tone.

"I'm starting to understand you, David Hobby," she said, crossing her arms and tilting her head to the side, eying him like he was a troublesome child. "To you everything is like a math problem. You're always trying to dissect the world down to the least common dominator so you can solve the equation, or squeeze it in one of those little theories you come up with. But people aren't theories, or birds… or robots! Mister Bookworm!"

David considered her words for a moment.

"Fair enough," he said. "But it just seems so superficial… all this focus on appearances. There's more to life than what meets the eye, you know."

Amanda jumped up and thrust a scolding finger in David's face.

"Your clothes make a statement," she said. "They either say 'G'uh! I'm David Hobby, but so what? It's ok to ignore me, because I do.'" She donned a goofy expression; bowing her legs and wobbling around like a clown. Then she straightened her back and began to strut boldly.

"Or they can say, "Yo-yo-yo, Hobby's in da house! That's right ya'll, it's _the_ David Hobby! Ignore me at your peril, because I am _that _one!'"

Amanda morphed back to her usual petite, irritating self and sat down. She tapped her braids back into place and commenced playing with his RC again.

"It your choice," she said, as if she didn't care either way.

It was David's turn to roll his eyes. He considered pointing out that he was trying to make 'his choice' yesterday, when she'd taken over the search. But he didn't want to argue.

"_That _one?" he repeated, shaking his head. "I don't know _which_ one _that_ one is, but he's surely not _this _one."

"Oh, have some fun for a change," Amanda said. "What you got to lose?"

David clucked his tongue and looked at himself in the monitor. He cocked his hips and tried a swagger, the way he'd seen her do. But he stopped when he realized how comical he looked.

"It's just not me, Amanda," he said, laughing. "It not my style."

"Style?" Amanda yelled in disbelief. "What style, Bookworm? You got no style!"

She jumped up suddenly and began bouncing up and down to some inaudible rhythm; flexing her back and bobbing her head; her braids flailing wildly. David moved away, to keep from being hit as she thrust her fists into the air, screaming:

_"Chaka-chaka-Chaka-chaka! _

_Chaka-chaka-Chaka-chaka _

_Cha-cha-cha-cha-cha!"…_

She repeated the chant in time with her rhythmic thrusts. Her pretty face twisted into a grimace of either pain or pleasure, David could not tell which. He sighed and suppressed a laugh.

"Amanda, what the hell are you-"

But his words were cut off when she turned and bumped her rear hard against him, knocking him off balance. He corrected himself and stepped out of her line of fire.

"_Chaka-chaka! Chaka-chaka!…"_ she went on, bouncing around the room as David watched, perplexed. Finally she landed her feet hard on the floor; crouching in a low, wide stance, like some untamed creature; hands clasped to her thighs and lips twisted into a feral snarl.

"_Flesh Riiiiiite_!"

Amanda screamed in a banshee whine, eyes closed and head back, like a wild, young wolflette howling at the moon. She stopped suddenly, chest heaving, face flush from exertion, staring at David with an almost maniacal look in her eyes.

"Get it?" she said.

David was dazzled and lost for words. She was… beautiful!

A knock came suddenly from the door, breaking David from whatever trance Amanda had put him in.

"Sir," said a muffled voice beyond, "Is everything ok?"

"Uh…I'm fine Alfred," David called out. "Just… just playing some new music," he lied.

Amanda cupped her hands over her mouth and started snickering. After a moment David joined in and the two quickly fell to their knees in laughter. When their humor was spent, she reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder.

"You're young! You're rich! You're sexy!" she said. "Don't waste it!"

Sexy?

David had never thought of himself that way before. He stood and looked at himself in the monitor. A sly grin broke slowly on his face. He did look rather 'sexy', didn't he?

This was definitely a new color.

"Ok," David said, his grin blooming into a knowing smile. "I get it."

When Amanda started bouncing up and down again, David joined in; hesitantly at first, feeling a little foolish. Then his blood started flowing and he fell full into the rhythm, copying her movements and echoing the ritual chant at the top of his lungs. He had no idea what the words meant, but knew it really didn't matter. It felt good! And as he danced, it became clear why the clothes were made so sheer and form fitting.

They were for the young. They were for the bold. They were for the _sexy!_

"_Chaka-chaka! Chaka-chaka!"_ the teenagers screamed, laughing and bouncing around the room like mad men. But there was nothing mad about them. They were just typical teenagers, dancing off the frustrations of adolescing in a troubled world.

Teddy rose from the place near the silent 500, where David had started keeping it so Amanda would not realize who it really belonged to. The Supertoy walked to the edge of the couch, twisting its brows and scratching its head as it watched the two Orga teens perform their strange ritual. After a minute or two Teddy went to sit back down, resigned to the fact it would never understand their species.

**2**

The moment Ariel cleared the restricted zone, and raced beyond the Torch and Cybertronics' array of security towers, Amanda's pod started singing. It sang in her voice, or a precise simulation of her voice; reciting a litany of short messages in time to a pumping rhythmic background.

"_Jazzy says 'wazzup!'_

_Zee wants a call back _

_Five messages from Frills,_

_Ice says he'll meet at the show…"_

The phone continued that way for a minute, rapping off a string of names, letting Amanda know who had called while she'd been unavailable and, if the message was short enough, what they'd wanted.

David hadn't seen that function before.

"Cool," he said, leaning over to listen to the program and study the small holographic images hovering over the pod; avatars of the people who had tried to contact her "How many musical variations does it have?" he asked, intrigued by the improvised freestyle program and wondering what kind of processing it used.

"Shhh," Amanda hissed, raising a hand for silence. She turned off the speaker and the avatars disappeared as she placed the pod to her ear.

David clucked his tongue and pressed back into his seat. Lex, the security Mecha Dad had provided, a non-descript but tough looking S-250 in casual dark clothing and shaded glasses, was sitting in the front beside Ariel. It craned its head to see what Amanda was doing on her pod. She had already been told that there'd be no images of David sent to anyone. She had reluctantly agreed, but the Mecha had determined a high probability that she could break tat trust.

When Lex was satisfied that she wasn't up to mischief, it nodded at David. David winked, to acknowledge all was fine, and turned to gaze out the copter window.

The last thin trace of daylight was surrendering to the night. Beneath its faint purple glow, a fine coat of twinkling lights hugged the horizon.

The Inland. Where the Bright Flock played.

The night hadn't even begun yet, and David was already having reservations.

Amanda's crazy dance in his room had relaxed him about the 'event'. (He kept telling himself that it wasn't a _date_.) But his feet were growing cold again. He had lived through slaughters, had been interrogated by secret police; he'd been captured by a gang of bandits, had run their gauntlet and narrowly escaped from more than one life threatening situation.

So what was it about going to hang out with a bunch of flashy self-consumed teenagers that made him so nervous?

Perhaps it was the fact that his clothes were so sheer that he felt naked? ("Aren't those a little tight around the rear?" his Father had joked when seeing them off.) Or maybe it was because the little braid Amanda had tied at the back of his hair seemed a bit feminine? ("But it's cute!" she'd insisted when he'd complained. "You should let your hair grow out!")

Most likely it was that he was breaking out of his 'cocoon' as Dad has put it; entering unexplored terrain, yet again. Had he grown so used to his routine, that new experiences now scared him. And what was it that scared him? Rejection? Why would he be worried about being rejected by a bunch of people he'd never even met?

Even after five years of being 'alive' David was just beginning to understand the complexity of human emotions.

"Jazzy!" Amanda said in a sing-song voice. David realized she was talking with someone on her pod. "What's your twenty, girl?" she said, and waited a moment as whomever she was talking to responded. "Yeah, we're on the way," Amanda said. She listened a moment more and then said, "Well, you can tell Ice I'll be there when I get there and if he doesn't like that he can go grip off!"

Then she turned and winked at David.

"And anyway, you'll never guess who I'm with," Amanda said into the pod.

The security Mecha leaned over the seat and shook its head. Amanda scowled and stuck her tongue out at the bot. But she obeyed.

She looked at David again, and seemed to be considering something.

"Let's just call him… "

David held up a threatening fist; silently mouthing the words: _'No Bookworm!'_

Amanda giggled.

"Call him Blue," she said.

David shrugged and sat back. It was strange, but it would do.

"And he's the cutest nerd you'll ever see!" she added, laughing.

David set his face in his hand moaned. What was he getting himself into now?

**3**

The Nexus Plaza finally came into view, a sprawling complex built atop the head of a mount that had once had been the location of an exclusive community, noted for its scenic view. But the waters had risen and the mount was now an island bearing a entertainment center that glowed brightly in night.

Airborne traffic was scant, but on the ground below, David could see the clustered headlights of cruisers trailing off for what seemed miles. Far to the south, the colorful towers of Rouge City were blinking and flashing on the black horizon. But there were no images of scantly clad prostitutes floating over The Nexus Plaza, nor were any lasciviously designed buildings exposing their bodies for the crowds. This was a place for teens. And while the kids themselves would not have objected to such prurient displays, their parents were another matter.

Floating marquees carried advertisements for bands and holos, clothing stores and coffee shops. High over a large circular structure in the center of the plaza, a floating sign spun and gyrated. It read:

"_Tonight at Nexus 1: _

_Flesh Rite!_

_with special guests_

_Daphne & The Simple Son._

_Doors open 8:30 pm"_

"Woo-hoo" Amanda yelled, grabbing David's hand and bouncing around in her seat. Lex glanced back, but said nothing. David nodded, to signal everything was fine, and the bot turned around.

"Is he going to be a pest all night?" Amanda said in a stage whisper loud enough for the Mecha to hear.

"It's his job," David said. "Don't worry. He's not going inside to concert with us."

"Small favors," Amanda sighed.

A flood of music suddenly erupted over the copter com. Nexus security had noticed their approach.

"_Welcome to the Nexus Plaza,"_ said a warm female voice. "_Please log in or register your business."_ It wanted to know who was flying into their parking bay, and why.

Due to legal limits on childbirth, with rare exception, every teen here would be an only child. So security was very tight. Adults with no children, or any business reason to be at the plaza, were refused entry. Even adults who didn't try to enter the facility, but loitered too close nearby, would arouse suspicion.

Ariel entered a code in the dash of the copter. There was a quick musical interlude and then the voice returned.

"_Welcome, Mister Holt,"_ the voice said cheerfully _"We hope you enjoy tonight's special presentation, 'Flesh Rite'. Door open in thirty-five minutes._ _Please proceed to the Exclusive Parking Bay indicated in your monitor."_

Ariel wouldn't need the monitor, of course. The directions had already been uploaded into his head.

"Um… Mister Holt?" Amanda said.

"Dad's traveling alias," David explained as Ariel began to descend.

**4**

There were about a dozen other copters spread about the parking bay. Their pilots, if Mecha, were standing attentively by their craft, while the few Orga pilots lounged in the copter carriage, reading or watching something on their pod. No cabs or shuttles were allowed in this section. These were private copters, the ones bearing the rich and famous, or children of the politically connected.

Only one of the copters sported an insignia; a white, sketch type logo of a large oval with a smiling, mustached man in its center. The rest were anonymous, including the one David arrived in, and bore nothing that would indicate who they belonged to. Nor who they carried. Kidnappings for ransom had once been a major concern, long ago when the world economy had started its decline. They were rare now, but not rare enough to risk drawing too much attention.

Getting out was David's first obstacle. He had noticed a group of kids passing by, heading slowly towards an elevator at the edge of the parking bay. He wanted to give them time to exit, certain that when he jumped out they'd see him and laugh at his clothing. So he pretended to be having problems with his seat harness while Amanda leaned against the copter door, sighing and eying him impatiently. Even Ariel glanced over his shoulder after a minute, wondering why David was having such difficulty with a device he'd used many times before. When Lex offered to assist, David suddenly figured it out and stepped into the stark lights.

'Here we go,' he thought.

A few of the kids did glance in his direction, but none of them laughed. They just whispered to the others, who also looked over. David could see that their clothing was as at least as wild as his, but he still felt awkward in their gaze.

Amanda noticed his discomfort.

"Oh, don't go all mamas-boy on me," she whispered. "They're just wondering who you are. Probably think your some child star or something."

A mischievous grin grew on her face.

"Quick," she said, giggling, "turn away like you're trying to avoid them. That'll start some gossip."

David joined in on the prank, lowering his head and turning his back on the group of kids. Sure enough, they started moving slower, craning their heads or walking backward, trying to see what young luminary might have arrived. But Lex didn't appreciate the joke and placed itself between David and the passing group. The Mecha crossed his its arms and clenched its jaws. The gawkers quickly got the message and moved on.

"Please, don't do that," Lex said to Amanda.

But she just started laughing, and David couldn't help but join in.

"You're so bad," he said. But he felt encouraged. He wasn't excited about drawing so much attention, but at least it wouldn't be the negative kind.

"Did you lock your pod, sir?" Lex said to David.

"Oh, yeah," David said. He pulled it from his pocket made sure access was blocked. Lex would be logged in, so it would know where David was at all times. But David didn't want anyone wearing 'googs', or virtual glasses, to be able to read his identity. There were restrictions on the devices, especially at big venues that catered to teens; and Nexus Security screen new arrivals for such things. But technology like that was hard to control.

"Done," David said, slipping the pod back into his pocket.

"I'll be trailing," Lex said. "You know the signal if anything goes wrong."

"Cmon," Amanda said, grabbing David by the hand. "I want you to meet my crew."

Her hand felt good in his, small, soft and warm. But then she tugged him hard, pulling him along as she began running, and David forgot the brief delight of her touch.

The young couple raced for the plaza with the security bot walking fast a dozen or so yards behind them. Ariel stood at attention by the copter. It would wait on stand-by, until their return.

**5**

They took an elevator down to a second passageway that wound around the structure and emptied near the general parking bay. This was designed to allow people who'd arrived in the exclusive bay, to slip into the general crowd unnoticed. Then they could enter the plaza without everyone knowing they might be someone special. Many young celebrities and children of celebrities, traveled incognito, and preferred to not be harassed by fans.

As they moved into the mad press of teenagers rushing up from general parking and the tram drop off points, David's tension eased. Nobody gave him a second look. And he could easily see why. He was plain in comparison with most of the crowd.

There were kids in tights and kids in costumes, kids with fluorescent make up and glowing tattoos painted on their faces. Some had had even dressed up like characters from their favorite holos or games. A few of them appeared to be naked at first glance; their bodies painted in elaborate designs. Then David realized their clothing was just so form fitting that it was hard to tell the difference.

What had he been worried about?

There were a few kids dressed in the manner he had desired; simple jeans and t-shirts or black slacks with plain, retro button ups. But they were the ones who actually stood out, being so few. Here, the extravagant was the normal.

Along the passageway walls stood patient, watchful Mecha, clad in dark, trim fitting uniforms with a insignia on the chest: a small white 'N" imposed in the corner of a large 'X'. It looked like some kind of math equation.

'Nexus', David guessed. They were probably scanners, checking the crowd for any illegal devices. Even as he thought this one of the guards reached out and caught a boy by the collar. The kid turned, an angry glare on his face. But the Mecha just pointed back down the hall.

"You'll have to leave those in your car, sir," it said loudly, to complete with the din of the crowd. The boy struggled, but finally relented when the kids around him complained that he was slowing the line. He turned and headed back, to leave whatever it was he carried in whatever vehicle he had arrived.

But why only Mecha Security? David wondered. Robots couldn't hurt an Orga. There were severe consequences for even striking a human. Especially a child. David guessed that if a kid got violent, or if a fight broke out, the bots would probably just hold the offenders until Orga guards, or police, showed up. It was a logical system. Mecha had a hell of a grip.

But the crowd was actually pretty orderly considering their age and excitement.

A few rowdy boys, clad in black and bearing savage looking tats on their arms, were pushing and shoving their way through the passage. They were mocking and taunting the others as they made their way. But no one seemed perturbed by the obnoxious behavior. They ignored it, like it was business as usual, and let the boys pass.

This strange Bright Flock in their restless swarms, thought David. These are the ones I should be studying.

A tug on his hand broke David from his thoughts. The crowd ahead had cleared and Amanda was pulling him on, racing towards the plaza. David looked back to make sure his bodyguard was still with them. Lex was having a hard time in the onslaught of teenagers, but still in David's line of sight. And even if he lost them, Lex could hone in on David pod.

Once beyond the passageway the crowd dispersed, headed for their various destinations. The plaza was huge, encircled by a line of brightly lit stores and eateries; game zones and small clubs with flashing marquees or gyrating holographs floating outside their doors. Groups of kids gathered in their separate cliques; eating or talking or whispering about the other kids.

A few of the dark clad Mecha guards strolled around the crowd. And small glowing orbs floated about the groups, stopping here and there and then moving on. These were advertisements, David realized. How clever! A few of the orbs raced away after the kids it had stopped near jeered loudly, or threw punches at it.

In the center of it all, stood the auditorium where they were headed. The Nexus One. There were probably other smaller venues where lesser-known artists performed, but this was the main attraction. A huge hologram floated above the entrance, displaying music videos by the bands that were performing that night. David recognized one of the scenes from something he'd seen online.

When they were clear of the mob in the passageway, Amanda let go of his hand and pulled her pod from her pocket. She turned on her viewer and said "Jazzy". The pod made the connection, and a girl with wild green hair and luminous makeup appeared on the small screen

"Where the heck are you," Amanda said.

"Staring at you," Jazzy replied. Amanda looked up and scanned the plaza.

"There they are!" she said, pointing at a distant cluster of kids gathered near an outcrop of stylistic tables where they were eating and talking. She grabbed David's hand and they were off again.

**6**

Amanda's 'crew' was as much of a spectacle as everyone else here. They all looked to be around the same age, but they were tall and short, fat and thin, and various races and nationalities. It did appear though, that they shopped at the same trendy stores, used the same dye in their hair and paint on their faces.

"Hey, Mandy-girl!" said one of them, a tall feline boy with long violet-tinted hair and a large kiss painted high on one cheek.

"Frill!" Amanda said, giving him a real kiss on his painted one. She hugged him quickly and moved on to the others. They rose from their conversations and meals and greeted her with quick hugs and pecks on her face.

"Where you been!" they said, and "Why ain't you returned my calls, girl" and "How's life at the end of the world?"

"Boring!" Amanda cried, at the last question. "But at least I'm getting my homework done for a change. There's nothing else to do!"

David stood at the edge of the crowd, feeling out of place, as Amanda made her rounds. It was clear that this was her element. She was like different person, talking rapidly, her face animated and laughter falling easily from her mouth. He'd never seen her like this before. But how could he have? She didn't belong so far from the center of things. She was one of them. He was just passing through. He looked at his feet, feeling silly for thinking that he might actually fit in.

"And you must be Blue," someone said.

David looked up to see a girl with her hand on her hips, looking him up and down. Gold skinned and heavy set with slightly Asian features, she was clad in a loose robe-like dress, adorned with colorful prints of what appear to be dancing people. Her green-tinted hair shot up in stylish curls over her head and her make-up gave off a soft luminance.

"Mmm-hmm" the girl said, as if she was eying a sumptuous meal. "Mandy was right. You are cute."

David had no idea how to react to this. He shrugged and waved, hoping that his blushing wasn't too obvious.

"And he's mine!" Amanda yelled from the table where she was standing, talking to a dark sinned boy with a fiery blonde mane of hair. She crossed her arms and took a menacing pose. But there was humor in her voice and the kids around her laughed.

Jazzy waved a flippant dismissal at Amanda and turned her attention back to the cute new kid.

"The quiet type, eh?" she said to David. "I sure wish Shooter was more like that. He don't know when to talk and when to shut up, and when he does talk, I can't figure out what the hell he's sayin'!"

The boy named Shooter, a tall pale kid, with the faint remnants of acne on his face, looked up from a gathering of kids at the table. He spoke in a precociously deep voice.

"You don't need to be the one talkin' about talkin' when talkin's not due, Jazz," he said.

"You see what I mean?" Jazzy said, incredulous. "Now, did that make any kind of sense at all?"

David laughed, but only because he knew he was supposed to. He still felt out of place.

"Ignore her," Shooter said. "She'll make you crazy." He gestured that David should come and sit. "You're safer over here with us!"

David complied. The boys moved aside to make space for him as he sat at the table, and Amanda made introductions all around. David nodded and smiled and shook hands with the few that were offered. They greeted him with disinterested glances, and a few quick compliments on his clothing. No one seemed to have last names. They used strange nics like Zipper and Scoot, Cluk and Henny, Shooter and Tiff, Mimi and Lalo, and a dozen other odd names and painted faces that David knew he would never remember.

When introductions were complete, they went back their lattes and the conversations. David listened, trying to follow as they spoke about sports he didn't watch, holos he'd never seen, games he didn't play and bands he'd never heard. The bands had names like "Glamaniacs" and "Choot Galore" and "Metalicious".

The last one made David laugh aloud. A few others joined him and he started feeling like he belonged here. At least for tonight.

"Where's Ice" Jazzy said to Amanda.

Amanda looked around as if there was something she'd lost.

"Oops! I must have dropped his leash," she snipped.

Jazzy shot her a dark look.

A couple of the crew snickered at the mention of the name. Jazzy glared in their direction.

"Don't laugh," Jazzy complained. "Ice is sweet." But this only brought more chuckles. "Oh, you all are so mean," Jazzy said.

"He's ok," Shooter said. "But he's not really one of us. We all know here's only one reason he comes around."

"Hey, what was that noise?" Amanda said suddenly, cocking her ear to the wind. "Was that a change of subject in the air?"

Everybody got the message and the conversations changed direction.

David had no idea what was going on and decided not to ask.

"So, what're you into," said the boy named Zee. He was the dark skinned boy Amanda had been talking to earlier, the one with the crazy blonde hair.

It took a moment for David to realize Zee was talking to him. He hesitated, remembering that Lex said he shouldn't mention anything that might indicate who his father was.

"Well, a little of everything I guess," David said. "Music. Reading. I tinker with programming a little. And I fly."

"Fly?"

"Uh, my RC," David said quickly. He knew he shouldn't mention that he had his own Stratocruiser. It might draw more questions that he should answer. "I have a 1/4 scale amphibicopter," he explained.

"Ka," Zee said, impressed.

"So you can talk," Jazzy said. "You got a nice voice too. You should talk more often."

Zee waved her off.

"Let the man alone," he said. Then he turned to David. "By the way, if you're going to the show tonight, make sure you watch for spiders. There's a crew out, playin' their little hustles around the entrance."

"Spiders?" David said. "You mean data-bugs? Snoopers?"

"Yeah, I mean bugs," Zee said. "And these new ones are sneaky. They don't just stick to your sleeve. They crawl all up in your clothes, looking for stuff you forgot to encrypt."

"Thanks for the warning," David said. But he was wondering how they got in here. There'd be no way Sy would have tried to get get past security like this…. unless there was someone on the inside! David decided not to speak his mind.

Amanda turned to him and put her hand out.

"Give me the tickets," she said. "And don't let anyone get too close to you before we get inside."

David couldn't tell her he already knew all the routines, that he'd used them himself years ago, just trying to stay alive. So he took the tiny discs from his coat pocket and handed them over.

Then he looked away quickly as she pulled the top of her shirt out, and slipped them into her bra. The rest of the boys acted like they didn't even care.

"Oh, ain't he polite!" Jazzy laughed. "You know how to pick 'em, Mandy-girl," she said, winking at David.

"We're gonna be late," Amanda said, rising and pulling David to his feet. "You guys coming," she said to her friends.

"Later," Scooter said. "That first band is a bit on the sleepy side, if ya know what I mean." There were a few grunts of agreement from the others.

"Then see you inside." Amanda said. She blew them all a kiss and started walking away.

"Ain't you waitin' for Ice?" Jazzy said.

Amanda stopped. She turned slowly and cocked her head, a dark expression on her face. It was her "serious' expression. David had already seen it a few times since he'd known her.

"And why should I?" she said. "Is there some rule that I overlooked?"

Jazzy crossed her arms and frowned, eying Amanda with a stern expression. David could tell their friendship went way back. And nobody fought quite like old friends.

"Maybe we should just go, Amanda" he said, trying to head off whatever was coming about whoever Ice was. But neither of the girls was listening to him.

"Why you always got to punish that man," Jazzy said. "He's been so nice to you. Got you tickets to the show and all."

"First off, he's not a man, he's a boy," Amanda replied testily. "And second, Ice just saved the tickets for me. He didn't give them to me. Dav… uh, Blue and I paid for them with our own money. And last, I'm not being mean. I just don't feel like dealing with one of his little tantrums tonight. And you know what I'm talking about."

"Yes, I do," Jazzy snapped, "And I also know why he gets that way! So don't act all innocent, Miss Mandy!"

Something suddenly occurred to David. Was this whole thing with 'Ice' really about _him_?

He faced Amanda and spoke softly.

"Is this 'Ice' guy going to be trouble? Is he like… your boyfriend or something?" he said. The idea that Amanda was seeing someone made David feel strangely upset. But he'd rather avoid a fight on his first … 'concert'. (He still didn't want to call it a date)

But Amanda just waved the question way.

"No and no," she said, "and now we got to go!" She grabbed David by the hand and started walking again.

_"Aww look at the all the cute little Shinys! Don't they just make you wanna puke!"_

Everybodys attention was drawn to the voice. They turned to see a group of rowdy kids, like the ones David had seen in the passageway; the black clad boys who had been shoving their way through the crowd. There were about ten of them standing atop nearby tables, sneering at Amanda's friends. A tall kid in front of the group was flipping the bird and making hand gestures over other parts of his body.

"Is that Ice?" David whispered.

Amanda sighed.

"No," she said "They're just a bunch of dumb CJs out to cause trouble."

"CJs?"

"Crash Jammers," Amanda explained. "They just losers. Ignore them."

Zee and Shooter rose, and started walking towards the boys. The looks on their faces suggested that this was nothing new and they weren't intimidated.

"Wazzup punks?" Zee said. "Getting ready to bite off more than you can chew? Again?"

"Shiny freaks of nature!" shouted one the CJs.

"Bring it, you transie dirtbags," said one of Amanda's crew; the one named Frill. He was thin and vaguely girlish, but something in his expression said he knew how to take care of himself. More of Amanda friends rose and soon the groups of boys were shouting taunts and threats at one another.

This was something else David wanted to understand; this tribal proclivity among his fellow Orga. What drove it? And from whence did it come?

But again he was broken from his philosophical pondering by Amanda. She started pulling him away from the brewing fight.

"Nothin's going to happen," she said, "They'll just talk a bunch of crap and then security will show up and kick them all out, and we don't want to be around when that happens or we'll miss the show. Now c'mon!"

One of the CJs noticed the two leaving. He separated from his gang and hopped on a table that David and Amanda were passing.

"Yeah, run, you Shiny wuss!" the boy said, throwing his arms out in challenge.

David stopped. He didn't mean to. He knew it was all just talk, and it would have been easy enough for him to keep going. But he didn't.

Even as he felt himself yank his hand from Amanda's grasp, saw her confusion as he gently pushed her aside, and turned to face the taunting Crash boy; even as he felt his body relax and knees bend slightly so he could position quickly if the boy jumped; David mind's was analyzing, in detail, the peculiarity of his own actions.

"Was that intended for me," he said in a calm voice.

"I don't see any other Shiny wusses around," the boy said.

Amanda groaned.

"You're going to make us late!" she said angrily.

"Don't worry," David replied, "This won't take long."

He approached the jeering Crash Jammer, feeling that strange disconnect that came over him whenever violence was in the air.

"You just made a major miscalculation," David said

_(cont…)_


	29. Chapter 29

**Alive**

**Book 2**

**Pt6**

**1**

Strange, the Orga mind. Strange how things can come back to you; how quickly an old habit can return in response to an unexpected provocation. It had been five years since David had lived among the young bandits of the forest, the abandoned and rejected youth that society ignored. Since that time he had resided in comfort, with only his studies, his projects and idle pursuits to be concerned. He didn't have to worry about food or shelter or fighting just to survive til the next day. Not anymore. Probably never again.

But the boy that David had once been; the one he'd been _forced _to be, in order to survive; was still inside him. And now, faster than he could have imagined, that boy resurfaced.

"Oh, I'm sorry, M'am. Did I offend you?" the CJ said, jumping off the table and approaching David with a cocky smile on his face.

David quickly assessed the boy's size and weight, his body and stance. He was looking for weaknesses, as Sy had taught him so long ago. And there were plenty of weaknesses.

"I'd have to take you seriously in order to be offended," he said.

The other CJ boys noticed the budding confrontation between their friend and the blue clad '_Shiny'_, as they called the colorful kids who flocked to the city from the suburbs every weekend. They turned their attention from teasing Amanda's crew and began to egg their friend on.

"_Do 'im, man!"_ one yelled. _"One busted Shiny ass coming up!_" said another.

Amanda's friends had noticed it too. But they only yelled that David should just go ahead to the show, and leave the CJ losers to them. David wasn't listening to either group.

"You take the first shot," David said, smiling. "I'll be taking the last."

"Oh, you're scary!" the boy taunted, "You and your shiny wuss suit and frickin' ass-pants." His friends all laughed. Amanda's crew started throwing more insults about the CJ's attire, and the two groups resumed yelling at each other.

_So much ado about clothing_, David thought again. But he knew this type, knew how hollow their bluster was, and how much of it was based in their insecurities.

"Yeah, I noticed you checking out my pants," he said, calmly. "Flattered, but I'm with my girl tonight."

The boy's face twisted into snarl. David knew he was about to lunge and prepared to side-step. But instead of rushing him, the boy looked up, over David's shoulder, and began to back away.

David turned to see his Mecha bodyguard standing behind him, its arms crossed and jaws clenched. He'd forgotten all about it!

The CJ boys must have thought Lex was Nexus security, because they jumped off the table and started walking away. Amanda's friends must have thought the same. They sat down and pretended to be lost in conversation, peeking over their shoulders to see if David was in any trouble.

David was glad they'd made this assumption. If they'd realized Lex was his private bodyguard, it might have raised questions he wasn't supposed to answer.

"Everything ok, Sir," Lex said, scanning the black clad boys that were slowly retreating. They threw a few insults as they left. David knew the Mecha was recording their facial features for later recognition. If it had thought there was some real threat, it would have carried him off already.

"I'm fine," David said, disappointed; surprised by his feeling of resentment for Lex's intervention. Something inside him wanted to tell the bot that he could have handled the mouthy punk on his own. But he knew Lex would have never let that happen.

"You'll be late for the show," Lex said.

David sighed and took Amanda's hand. He was about to apologize for his behavior when he noticed something new in her eyes. She was gazing at him with a curious expression, one he'd never seen before. David wasn't sure exactly what it was, but he quickly decided he liked it.

"Guess there's more to you than I thought," she said.

"You'd be surprised," said David. Then he began leading the way to the auditorium. Lex let them go a little distance before he started following.

"We'll meet again, ass-pants!" the CJ boy yelled as they walked away.

"Only if your luck runs out," David replied without looking.

**2**

By the time they had their tickets scanned and had taken a place inside the large auditorium, the lights were already dimming. David commented on the lack of seats and Amanda gave him one of her 'd'uh' looks.

"How are we going to dance with the seats up?" she said. She stomped her foot on the floor. "They're under here," she explained. "They retract them for dance bands."

"Oh," David said, feeling a little embarrassed for asking. He scanned the expectant young crowd. The hall was filled with little avatars as kids called their friends and them sent images and videos of the stage. Glowing orbs were bouncing around the hall, thrown up by one kid and then pushed up by another and another as they made their way around the crowd.

This was a festival, David realized. Not just a gathering of music fans, but a party. He was about to share this insight with Amanda when the lights dimmed and the crowd started cheering.

The first band was taking the stage.

Daphne and the Simple Son consisted of a slim Blonde woman in a sheer, almost transparent dress that sparkled in the multicolored spotlights; and her accompaniment, a tall man whose features were obscured by the hood of his long, wizard-like robes. He had a large digital monitor strapped to his chest, and began running his fingers over it, triggering virtual keys. Music filled the room; beautiful, symphonic sounds; haunting melodies over big, slow jam beats. The crowd applauded and began swaying slowly in time with the moody grooves.

Daphne's voice was rich and deep, not like most of the popular female singers, who sounded more like spoiled little girls. These were mournful songs; songs of love lost in a world gone awry.

_"Cloaked within a veil of tears_

_Under remnants of our angry years_

_Though greed and war have marred her face_

_She will always be here"_

As Daphne sang, the holo-show started. Vast gray landscapes rose over the stage and floated out above the crowd. Foggy sea-side cliffs filled the darkness, waves crashing against the broken boulders at their feet. Massive mountains grew from nowhere, their stately white heads cloaked in stormy clouds. Vast green vistas and lush forests, deep valleys and grand canyons. These were places that David had read about, and seen images of, but never in such clarity.

This was the Earth as she once was, he realized; the planet that had been lost; drowned in the excesses of a thoughtless and greedy generation.

"This is excellent," David said.

Amanda pressed her head towards him and pointed at her ear.

"I said I really like this!" David yelled. "They're poetic! Grand!"

She nodded and smiled at him, then retreated again, to the swaying slow dance that the whole room was now doing. David knew that she hadn't heard a word he'd said. But it didn't matter. He joined her in the slow, kundalini sway, letting the music take his thoughts away from the present and into its beautiful melancholy realm.

The song stopped finally. The crowd howled for more. And the duo delivered. For forty minutes they played. Each song was a story unto itself… an emotional history lesson. The meaning behind the words seemed to be _'Don't forget what once was. Don't forget your Mother Earth. Don't forget love.'_

They concluded their set with a song of hope and then walked off the stage to a holo of great ocean waves ebbing and flowing. The image slowly faded and the crowd cheered for an encore. But the lights came up and a deep voice announced a short intermission. The kids around them started heading to the restrooms and refreshment kiosks.

"That was really great," David said.

Amanda was still swaying back and forth, lost on the music that had already ended. She looked up dreamily at him.

"Having fun, Blue?" she said, a coy smile on her lips.

"Oh, yeah," David replied. "This is… this is much better than I expected."

Amanda surprised him then by wrapping her arm around his waist and pulling him tight against her. She nestled her head against his shoulder and purred softly.

"I thought you'd have fun," she said. "You need to have more fun."

David hesitated. This was all so new to him. He had no idea what to do. But after a moment he placed his arm around her shoulder. She was so warm and soft… so _alive._ Something welled up inside David; something deep and intoxicating. It made his head swoon, made him feel strong and weak at that same time.

He pulled Amanda close, and rested his chin against her head, letting the sweet scent of her fill his senses. The young couple stood that way for the whole intermission; swaying back and forth together, communicating their feelings in a language as old as life itself

This too, was beginning to make sense to David.

**3**

The lights dimmed again. The crowd returned quickly and fell into an expectant frenzy as a low note boomed from the stage. The main act was coming on.

Amanda was suddenly awake and energetic. She pulled away from David and fanned her arms in a circle, clearing a space around herself. That maniacal look was in her eyes again; the one he had seen in his room.

"Better make some space for yourself!" she yelled over the roar of the crowd, "You're gonna need it!"

David stared at back her, no longer caring about the band; wanting only to hold her close again and wishing they could just go somewhere and be alone for a while. But then he noticed the kids around him doing the same as she was. Marking their territory.

What was this about?

The hall suddenly went black and a loud, un-humanly low voice growled from the stage.

_"In the beginning there was the void!"_

The crowd roared. Multicolored flashes of light erupted in the dark and holographic globes of fire appeared, racing in speedy orbits over the heads of the audience.

"_Then the Spirit moved upon the void _

_and creation was wrought"_

The spinning orbs collided. A subsonic boom shook the ground as a great burst of holographic flames exploded above. It looked so real that David jumped back, as if it might burn him. Unsettling memories came to sudden life in his mind. But it was just an illusion. He felt embarrassed when he heard Amanda laughing. But he could not tell if she was laughing at him.

The giant holographic flame slowly condensed to form the Earth. The silent blue orb floated in the dark as the voice continued.

"_And when the cycle of creation was complete, _

_God looked upon the Earth_

_Her rivers and her oceans_

_Her mountains and her fields…_

_And God said… _

_Damn, this place looks boring! _

_It needs some Rock and Roll!"_

The stage lights flared and Flesh Rite was already there, five men clad in black, with thick unkempt hair and long braided beards. Their guitars started grinding over a massive, driving beat. The crowd screamed, and began moving with the intense rhythm as the singer roared in a guttural voice. David realized he'd heard this song before.

"_Flames in a storm. _

_Cling to what ignites you. _

_'Cause nothing really matters _

_but the moments that you buuuurn!_

_Burn! Burn! Burn!"_

The kids sang along. Their voices created a thick echo in the hall. The music was complex and immense. Engulfing. David became lost on ceaseless waves of sound as the band went on, racing from song to song in a seemingly non-stop groove; barely giving the crowd a chance to rest in between, stopping only long enough for the singer to scream the name of the next tune before the drums kicked in and their thumping din shook the walls.

The beat hit David at some primitive, fundamental level, and soon it felt as if his body was moving on its own. Even though the huge coolers came on to keep the crowd from overheating, he had to take off his jacket and hold it as he danced.

It made sense to him now! The groove, the rhythm, the physicality of it all. He would have never understood this in his former life. It could not be digitized. It could not be quantified, or equated.

The flesh! The heat!

It had to be _experienced._

It seemed like an hour had passed when the band stopped again. But this time they didn't launch immediately into another song. The singer slung his guitar over his shoulder and strutted back and forth across the stage, flexing his arms and pulling on the twin braids of his beard as he glared at the crowd. They yelled at him, screaming out the names of songs they wanted to hear.

"Hey, don't tell me how to do my job!" he growled.

The audience laughed and the singer broke character long enough to flash everybody a quick smile. Then he started snarling again, and raised a fist at the crowd.

"I was told that the Nexus crowds were the best!" the man yelled. The crowd roared.

"I was told they were the baddest!"

The kids howled and screamed so loud that David had to cups his ears. But the man just shook his head like he was disappointed.

"Is that it? Is that all you got?"

The kids responded by pounding their feet against the floor until the entire building seemed to quake.

"Ok, that's pretty good, pretty good" the man said, looking impressed. He glanced back at the band with an expression that suggested he was afraid the building was about to fall. The band laughed and the singer turned to face the crowd again.

"But I think you can do better! Can you do better?"

The audience roared.

"_Then prove it!"_ the man yelled, crouching low and, snarling at the crowd like some wild untamed beast. David realized where Amanda had learned that move, and knew what was coming next. He joined in as the entire audience roared.

_"Flesh Riiiiiite!"_

The band launched into their signature song and the kids went wild, jumping up and down in the dance he'd learned from Amanda. Chants broke out, competing with the thick din of the music.

_"Chaka-chaka, Chaka-chaka_

_Chaka-chaka-Chaka-chaka_

_Cha-cha-cha-cha-cha_!"

David's heart raced as he jumped, his breath came hard, his head beaded with sweat. He smiled at Amanda, but she was lost in her own world, her braids flailing, the glitter on her face smearing from sweat; her small body rocking and twisting with the music.

She was beautiful! And she was his!

David threw his head back and screamed.

Then someone tapped him hard on the shoulder.

He turned quickly, smiling an apology, assuming he had stepped on someone's foot.

By the time he noticed the fist racing towards him, it was already too late.

David's world exploded into sparkling flashes of pain.

**4**

Two thoughts came to David in the blinding instant after the boy's fist struck his face above his left eye, and sent him spinning.

The first was a single word:

_Ice._

This must be the boy Amanda had told him not to worry about. He must have been behind them them whole time, watching them snuggling closely, and jealousy had gotten the best of him.

The next thought that came to David was really a memory.

_The Gauntlet._

The violent beating David had received from the gang in the forest; his friends and fellow thieves. And Sy's words came to him too, the ones the man had spoken as he'd pulled savagely on David's hair, preparing him for the beating he had been about to receive.

"_Pain and fear are only obstacles. Keep moving, even when it seems like you can't go another inch." _

These thoughts flashed through David's mind in the space of a heartbeat.

Then came the anger.

**5**

David spun around, moving with the force of the blow. He saw the boy who hit him from the corner of his eye, and realized he knew the face. It was the Crash Jammer from the plaza, the one who had promised to see him later. The boy was laughing now, probably thinking what an easy target the _Shiny_ in the bright blue 'asspants' had been.

But he'd made a major miscalculation.

David came out of the spin, his arm swinging with all the momentum of his turn. The boy stopped laughing the instant he realized a backfist was headed for his face. But it was already too late.

The music was too loud for David to hear his fist connect. But he felt the fleshy smack, and saw the kid's head snap to the side. The CJ went cock-eyed and fell back, his arms reaching out to grab something, anything to keep him from going down. But there was nothing and no one to hold onto, and he disappeared into the darkness beneath the dancers and out of David's line of vision.

David stepped back and cupped his head. The shock of the punch was fading quickly, but he knew a painful swelling was coming later.

Amanda noticed what was happening and stopped dancing. She must have misread the situation, thinking David had accidentally knocked somebody over, because she started laughing and pointing at him. The other kids around David stopped dancing too. But only because the boy on the floor was knocking them off balance as he tried to get up. They cleared space for him, yelling and screaming at having their fun disturbed. Their words were lost in the roar of the band, but David could see the anger on their faces.

He was about to push them all away, so that they would not crush the boy with their frantic jumping dance. That was when he realized his attacker was not alone.

"_Crash Jam!"_ the boy's friends yelled, jumping at dancers. Most of them had not yet realized what was happening, so they toppled easily as the laughing CJs launched their blitzkrieg on the dance floor.

Another CJ jumped at David. But he quickly realized his mistake when David caught him by the wrist, twisted it back until the boy fell to his knees, and then stomped on his ankle. The CJ fell screaming to the floor. David didn't like using such an extreme moves, but he had to get Amanda to safety. There was '_no time for dallying._

The girl had finally realized what was going on. She'd stepped back, her face shifting from surprise to anger and then fear in quick succession. David was trying to grab her by the arm and lead her off the floor, when one of the CJ boys yanked on one of her braids. She fell to the floor and sat there, dazed and confused in the center of the chaos.

David reached a new level of rage. He flew at the boy who'd hurt Amanda, stomped hard on the punk's instep and then landed a powerful blow on his nose as he tried to back away. The CJ toppled to the ground and didn't get back up.

David felt a another fist strike the side of his head. But it was a poorly aimed blow and only fazed him for an instant. Without looking to see if it was an enemy or just another dancer who'd thrown a misplaced punch, David crouched low and brought an elbow up into his attacker's midsection. He felt the boy fall against him, felt his body go limp as his breath was lost. David pushed the boy off, relived when it turned out to be one of the CJs.

The fight was spreading now. The dancers that had been knocked over, were on their feet again, jumping on the Crash Jammers, trying to pummel them off the floor. But the CJs didn't seem to care if they were hit or bleeding. They must have been drunk or high. They took full blows to the face and just came back for more. They were knocked down and stomped on, only to rise quickly and resume their attack.

This was getting dangerous.

He rushed to Amanda and helped her to her feet. She scanned the tumult raging all around them now.

"Look what you started!" she yelled

"Me?" David said, eyes wide in disbelief.

The band finally noticed the fight. Whether for legal reasons or genuine concern for their audience, David would never know; but they stopped playing and the singer came to the front of the stage, his guitar slung over his shoulder.

_"Hey hey hey! Kids! Bring it down! Bring it down!_" he yelled.

But the fight continued getting bigger as dazed kids threw blows at the wrong people, or missed the ones they'd been aiming at and accidentally started a fight with someone else.

_"Get these lights up! And get some security in here before someone gets hurt!_" the singer screamed, morphing into the responsible adult he really was beneath all the makeup and leather.

The ceiling lights came on and David finally saw just how widespread the war had become. The whole auditorium seemed to be a singular chaotic mass of violence.

Someone else tugged on David shoulder. He turned quickly, arm cocked and ready to strike. But it was only Zee. David dropped his fist and Zee patted him on the shoulder.

"Welcome to the Nexus!" he screamed, laughing.

Shooter and a few others were with him. Their faces were bruised and their colorful hair mussed. Frill had a trickle of blood running from nose. But they were all smiling and laughing, like it was all some big joke.

David was mystified.

Zee started pushing him.

"Let's go," he shouted, "They're gonna lock the place down any second!"

David grabbed Amanda's hand and they raced from the floor, joining the flock of Shiny dancers who had decided to get out before the Mecha guards arrived and started grabbing kids, and holding them until the police arrived.

**6**

The kids raced through the hallways, past a barrage of security Mecha that were headed for the main room. The bots scanned the kids but decided they were not the ones they wanted.

"Don't worry! They're looking for CJs!" Zee yelled as he led them down a corridor and out of a side door. By the time they made it outside, police copters were descending into the plaza. Sirens wailing and spotlights glaring, the crafts touched down on the walkway in front of the Nexus One, and large uniformed men jumped out and rushed into the concert hall. Some of the Nexus security bots were already walking out, holding struggling black-clad boys in their unbreakable Mecha grip.

"This way!" Zee yelled, over the din of the sirens and copters.

He led them into a crowd of kids who had gathered outside the restaurants and game zones to watch the chaos. A few of the spectators noticed their torn clothing and mangled hairdos. "_What happened'_ they yelled as the crew passed, assuming they must have been inside. But Zee ignored the inquiries, understanding that if the police saw them, they would assume the same thing.

The crew finally found a safe place in the shadows between two buildings, and fell to the ground. They were out of breath and unable to run any further.

"That was crazy!" yelled Shooter rolling around and laughing. "_Absolutely_ crazy!" he repeated a moment later, obviously lacking appropriate adjectives.

Zee sprawled face down on the asphalt until he caught his breath. Then he rolled onto his back and gave David a nod of approval.

"I saw you take out that idiot, Myron," he said. He mimicked the backhand strike that had knocked the boy down. "Bam!" he laughed. "That was beautiful, man. Just beautiful."

"Yeah, that was sweet," Shooter agreed in his strange deep voice. "That guy is such a d-bag."

David's breath was coming back now. He propped up on his elbow.

"You guys know those people?" he said.

"Some of them," said the feline boy named Frill. He was leaning against a building, nursing his nose. It had finally stopped bleeding, but was now forming a nasty bruise and darkening stain ran down his shirt. "But then they got into all that Mecha bashing crap and started running with the CJs. So we dropped 'em."

"Now they just show up to start trouble," Amanda said. She'd been laying on her back near David. Now she stood slowly and began to pace in a small circle.

"Mecha bashing," David said.

"Yeah," Shooter sighed. "Crash Jammers are sort of like Skins. But instead of different races, they hate robots... well robots nd people who use robots I guess." Then he gave David a curious look.

"You don't know about this?" he said, incredulous. "Where you from?"

"He's new around here," Amanda interjected. Then she screamed and beat her fists against her thighs in frustration.

"Damned, CJs!" she said. "My first night out in weeks and it gets messed up by a stupid fight!" She turned and glared at her friends. "And I blame you guys too! Why can't you just ignore them?"

The boys all shrugged.

"It's a guy thing, Mandy" Zee said. "You wouldn't understand." Shooter leaned towards him and the two slapped palms.

"Boys!" Amanda sighed.

David moaned as he sat up and rubbed his eye. It was already swelling. He'd had an interesting adventure tonight, but he was going to regret it in the morning. And when Dad saw him… well he didn't want to think about that right now.

"Lex will be looking for me," he said. He pulled his pod from his pocket and sent the bot a message that he was ok, hoping it wouldn't come looking for him.

"Who's Lex?" Shooter said. But David didn't want to answer that question.

"Just some guy," he said. Shooter seemed satisfied with that response.

"Man, Jazzy's gonna kill me," he said, pulling on his torn shirt. "She bought this for me just last week."

"Yeah, and my Dad's gonna kill me," David said, though more from trying to fit in then from any real concern.

"Are you ok," Amanda said, noticing his growing bruise.

"Fine," David replied, eying her warmly. "I've had worse."

She stared at him silently for a moment, still resenting his part in the chaos. Perhaps she was right, David thought. Maybe he should have just walked away from the fight. But finally she sat down beside him and nestled against his shoulder. David liked this a lot better than her accusing eyes.

"Well, those idiots were going to start a fight anyway," she said. "So I'm glad you were there.

David thought it was strange that the CJs would start a fight that was sure to get them arrested. He wondered if they had other motivations. The 'spiders' Zee had warned him about came to mind. But he could deal with that later. Right now he had other things on his mind.

He wrapped his arm around Amanda, and they all waited quietly for the sirens to go away. Then they could leave.

"So, where'd you learn all those tricks," she said.

"Tricks?" David said. "What tricks?"

"In the fight," she explained.

"Oh, I just picked them up… here and there."

She leaned back and stared at him strangely, her large dark eyes sparkling with a message that David was not yet experienced enough to understand. Then she laid across his body and David felt that giddy exhilaration again, as he embraced her.

Their faces were just breaths apart.

"And what else did you 'pick up'?" she said, softly.

David had never been in this situation, but something instinctual told him exactly what needed to be done.

'_Here we go,_' he thought. Then he placed his lips against hers.

There were no words; no analysis, no metaphorical association, that could express what David was feeling. The warmth of her body against his. It filled him up. Completed him. Made him whole.

He kissed her long and hard, his arms engulfing her, his hands caressing the tender flesh of her face and neck. She reciprocated tenderly, purring, pressing against him as if to make their bodies unite as one.

Touching. Holding.

This primal Orga language.

David could never have known.

Any lingering regret that he might have felt for making the transition to flesh was now vanquished.

Amanda finally pulled away, and smiled at him, a dreamy expression on her face.

"So," David whispered, "You still want your own toy boy?"

She raised a curious brow.

"Huh?" she said.

David flinched, realizing his mistake. But an unexpected voice came suddenly to his rescue.

_"Amanda!"_

The call came from the plaza. Someone had broken from the crowd and was now moving down the passageway, headed in their direction.

Amanda stiffened and pulled away. She sat up quickly and straightened her hair and braids.

"Yo, Ice," Zee said. "Where were you, man? You missed all the fun!"

Ice ignored the question and passed them by. He was backlit by the lights from the plaza, so David could not see his face. But from the looks of his silhouette, he seemed in pretty good shape. David sighed and sat up, mentally preparing himself for another fight.

Ice stopped near them, his face still obscured in shadow. But David could feel his gaze as he quietly sized up the situation.

"What's going on, Amanda," Ice said. The meaning of his question was obvious. '_Who is this guy you're with?'_ is what Ice was asking. But Amanda wasn't in the mood for one of his tantrums, as she had pointed out that night.

"Oh, nuthin," she said in mock innocence. "What's going on with you?"

"Real funny," Ice replied. The anger in his voice was obvious and David decided he did not like that tone; not when someone was talking to his _date_. He rose to face the boy Amanda said he shouldn't be worried about.

The others backed away as David stood, their faces expressing either concern or excitement at the pending confrontation.

Ice was a bit taller than he, and instead of the tight colorful clothing most wore, he was dressed in dark slacks and an expensive looking black jacket. His hair was short and black, and a single silver earring glittered in his lobe.

David tried a diplomatic approach first, offering his hand to try and break the tension. But Ice must have misunderstood his gesture, because he stepped back, finally shifting his position so that now the light fell on his face.

David gasped and dropped his hand, feeling his jaws clench reflectively. Ice glared at him a silent moment, confused by this reaction. Then he flinched and backed away, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly when he realized who stood before him.

"You!" Ice said at last, his voice thick with disbelief.

"Yes," David hissed through clenched teeth. "It's me."

Amanda looked back and forth between them.

"So… you two already know each other?" she said.

David and Martin Swinton, the warring siblings once separated by a digital hemisphere, stood on either side of Amanda, staring at one another in stony silence.

_(cont…)_


	30. Chapter 30

**Alive**

**Book 2**

**Pt7**

**1**

Cracks in the ceiling.

Thin and time worn.

Side by side, they ran twin meandering paths the full forty-foot length of the room, from the doorway to the bookshelf that lined the northern wall; like twin palm creases, predicting a fate David could not decipher. He had been waking in this same spot for the past five years, with a few notable exceptions, and yet he'd never noticed them before. Perhaps it was because they were above the light array and usually cloaked in shadow? Or maybe it was that they were so thin they had escaped detection all these years.

Most likely it was because this was the first morning he had just lain abed, staring at nothing.

_"So… you guys already know each other?"_

The cracks crisscrossed here and there. Pinpoint fractures were embedded in the fabric of the ceiling where they intersected, like tiny explosions.

"_We've met."_

"_Yeah… a long time ago." _

Strange, to have lived someplace for so long and yet know so little about it. When was it built? By whom, and why? Had it always been a place for the manufacture of…

"_Hello again… 'Ice'."_

"_Yeah. What a surprise."_

Life.

Every time David thought he was getting a handle on it, something popped up to show him just how much he didn't know. 'The unknown unknowns'. Like the way a couple of insignificant cracks in the ceiling showed him that the very place he called home was still an enigma.

Even he was still an enigma to himself.

What had come over him last night? It seemed someone else had taken control, some violent alternate personality, suppressed too long; like a program poorly erased from a forgotten user profile had been accidentally initiated. He thought back to the confrontation with the CJ boy in the plaza, and how he could have just walked away from it all. And the fight in the Nexus. Hadn't there been a thrill to it?

And then awoke a sleeping demon, when his nemesis had arrived.

"_Hey, you guys! Don't turn up the volume, ok? I've had enough boy stuff for tonight."_

Amanda had thought they were going to fight. And oh, how David had been willing to let things play out that way; how ready he had been as he gazed into Martin's disbelieving eyes. Every dark thought he'd ever had came back in that instant. And he was no longer a confused newborn, innocent to the green passion, jealousy; no longer dazed by the mysteries of his new flesh or weakened by hunger and exposure to the merciless elements. No. Now he was fed and fit, fearless. Most of all fearless.

If not for Lex's sudden appearance, David may well have loosed his demons.

"_Ariel is waiting Sir. I think it's time we depart."_

'Sir'

The way the others had all looked at David when Lex had used that word. Their eyes had asked the same unanswerable questions _'who the hell is this guy?_' He couldn't blame their sudden suspicions. How many sixteen year olds had their own bodyguards? And hadn't he spent the whole night pretending to be one of them?

Their skepticism David could have dealt with. Even the improbable appearance of Martin and the resurgence of his forgotten resentments would have left him simply angry. But Amanda! The way she'd pulled away from him when he'd reached for her hand.

"_We have to go, Amanda."_

_"I know, I know. Sorry, Ice. Call you later, ok?… See you guys!"_

David covered his head in his blankets, moaning as the bruise the CJ's fist had left on his head awoke painfully. But he was grateful for the distraction. Anything to keep his mind off the confusing emotions doing battle in his heart.

Martin and Amanda! The improbability! He sought refuge in the mental process of calculating the odds. What would be the factors? Both Amanda and Martin had fathers in robotics. Yes, that would narrow the numbers. And it was not inconceivable that they would run in the same circles. Martin would only be couple years older, David guessed… well technically more than that, since he'd lost five years in Cryo…. That would make him…

But the numbers would not come, and after a time David was left to the mercy of his turbulent young emotions.

"Ice," he mumbled into the covers.

Amanda must have come up with that. It seemed like something she'd say. David imagined their conversation; Martin telling her of his years lost in the freeze and Amanda in her irrepressible flippancy deciding that 'Ice' was an appropriate nic.

And when had that conversation taken place? Had they been alone?

David threw off his covers and sat up on the edge of his bed. The quick movements brought a rush of pain to his swollen eye, and he cupped his head until it subsided. The blue travesty that Amanda had forced him to wear yesterday, lay folded in a chair. He wanted to throw it away, to tear it to shreds and toss it out the window. But after a moment's consideration, he relented. It would be a hollow gesture. He glanced at his lute, hanging from his wall. The discipline of playing had always calmed him before. But even as he started to rise, he understood that not even his music would work this time. He sat back on the bed and massaged his wound.

When did they meet? How?

He should have asked her on the ride home. But he'd been unable to speak, his mind reeling from the sight of his sibling rival and the change that had come over Amanda; her façade of innocence as she'd pressed him for information in the copter.

"_So how do you know Ice? … David? … David! Oh, so now we're not talking? Don't act this way! He's just some guy I know!"_

Her words had irritated him even more. All along he'd known she was right. He had been acting like an ass, and he'd known it. But he couldn't stop himself; could not suppress the rage that had awakened inside him.

Of all the people! Martin Swinton! His brother! His enemy!

David rose and rushed to his window, wanting to scream, wanting to cry, wanting to roll back the tides of time to that unpredictable moment and break Martin's jaw! Like he should have!

He cursed all those crazy Orga kids with their shifting cliques and pointless rivalries. If only he had been born into this world a babe and had lived a natural youth among them, he might understand their Orga hearts! But he was never such a child! And he was not now such a youth as they; could never really be.

David closed his eyes, forcing his mind away from these vexing thoughts. He leaned out his window and breathed deep the ocean air; set his focus on this simple act. Breath of life. In. Out. In. Out. Each release taking some of his fire with it, to be extinguished in the eternally undulating sea below.

Let it go. Let it go.

In time David calmed. The memory of Martin's face slowly dissolved and was replaced by another. With it came understanding deeper than the bitterness that still clung to his heart; and deeper than the confused adolescent longing restless nether.

It was 'She', wasn't it? She was the memory that Martin's presence awoke in him. She, whose face still burned deep in his unique genetic code. She, whose memory was the source of the rage that had silenced him to Amanda's pestering queries. She, whose gentle words had birthed him to the world of sensation, and for whom he had crossed the boundaries of existence to be here; encased in this fragile soft machine, ever vulnerable to its constant provocations.

Yes. For all the pretenses of his flesh, and the amorous illusions of desire that led him astray… there could only ever be one _true _love.

"Monica."

The name fell softly from his lips. It was calming. Reassuring. It renewed his purpose.

David opened his eyes.

The day was cloaked in a blanket of gray cloud. The ocean disappeared into a white mist that floated gently on the horizon. A chilled salty breeze wafted in though his window, caressing his face and chest. The unceasing rumble of the lions was a welcome sound. It was good to be back among the familiar.

He was born here. He'd been reborn here. He belonged here.

"Oh, Amanda," he sighed. "I can't be _'that'_ one."

It was time they talk. He slipped on his worn cut-offs and t-shirt and made his way to her apartment.

**2**

Stuart King stood in his doorway, looking at David as if he wasn't sure who he was. The man hadn't been up very long. His hair was disheveled and his eyes still puffy from sleep. He was dressed in only slippers and a bathrobe with a Cybertronics logo on the breast.

"I can come back later," David said, embarrassed at having woken the man. It was Sunday after all. Stuart probably needed his rest. But the man just yawned and gave David a knowing smile as he gestured for him to enter the spacious living quarters he shared with his daughter. David didn't quite understand the expression on Stuart's face. He had expected to be met with anger for the events of the night before. But instead he was ushered in without hesitation.

Their place was lightly decorated. A large crescent couch and a couple of oversized chairs faced a large flat-screen on the wall, surrounded by framed portraits of smiling people. Family and friends. Numerous projects lay around the room, robotic body parts in various states of repair. The transparent dining table held stacks of papers featuring diagrams and schematics covered in hand written notes. It was the kind of quarters one might expect from people who were used to being on the move. Nothing so colorful or stylistic as Grace's quarters, but not as simply utilitarian as Mario's and the other techs who kept apartments here. It was actually similar to his Father's rooms. Though not as dark.

"Now that's what we used to call a 'shiner'," Stuart said as he closed the door behind them. David didn't get the statement at first. Stuart gestured to his swollen eye.

"Oh," David said. "It looks worse than it feels."

"I guess you got a little overdrive under your belt last night, eh?" Stuart said with a genuine laugh.

David donned an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry about that, Mr King, "he said. "I don't know what happened. Some kid started challenging me and … well, I lost control and everything just went a little crazy. But Amanda was my responsibility and I should have just walked away."

Stuart patted David on the shoulder

"Skip the Mr. King business," he said. "And never apologize for just being a kid." He looked David over for a silent moment. David couldn't hold the man's gaze. It was clear where Amanda got her piercing black eyes.

"I've been around long enough to know about those Crasher types." Stuart continued. "We didn't call them that when I was working the Flesh Fairs. We had 'Regulators' and 'Mashers' and all the rest of the wild boys who loved beating on things that couldn't fight back. But no matter what they call themselves, they're really all the same. Rebels without a clue."

David nodded thoughtfully, but he could say nothing. In part because Stuart's words were incisive, and he wanted to think on them. The violent boys were aimless, and cowardly; full of sound and fury and little else. But also, because he never really knew what to say in Stuart's presence. Just being in the same room with him was disorienting; left David with the lingering fear that he'd say something inappropriate, something that only his former self could have known.

"But there is something else we really need to talk about, young man" Stuart said, his face suddenly serious.

'The kiss!' David thought instantly. The memory of Amanda's body against him was still strong, and he was sure the man was about to give him a lecture on taking such liberties with his daughter. Stuart gestured to the couch and then took a place in a chair across from it.

"Yes?" David said hesitantly, as he sat down.

"Your Dad tells me you have some compelling ideas on the 500 series. Is that true?"

"Oh," David said, hoping his sense relief wasn't too obvious. But it had been a couple weeks since he had worked on the new line and he wasn't really sure where to start. After taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he leaned forward and clasped his hands together, unconsciously mimicking the professorial gestures of his Father.

"Well, I was thinking we could expand the peripheral field and modify the facial recognition features," David said. "Throw in some generic emotional temperament profiles, you know… so the bot could use that kind of data in calculating its swing. I know my Father doesn't think it would make much difference, but I've been practicing on one for a while and I believe it's worth a try. I mean, that's the way Orga… uh, the way _we_ predict things. If we're going to emulate human responses and reflexes, then I don't see any reason to omit this category of data. It would take us one step beyond simulation and closer to genuine duplication."

Stuart rubbed his chin as he digested the idea

"But, what would be the purpose?" he said. "The 500s are elaborate, yes, but in the end they're glorified toys. The kind of emotive feedback you're talking about might serve to enhance familial interactions, but we're nowhere near simulating the kind of motion capabilities we need to actually make a bot play baseball. The most we can hope for is letting an imprinted father take his 'son' out for a little batting practice."

David lowered his head so Stuart wouldn't see the conflict in his face. He didn't like talking about this subject, especially with this man. He was talking about _himself_... about the robot he used to be; but could not let the man know it. He would have to choose his words carefully.

"When my Father designed the original David… he not only built a simulator capable of experiencing '_love_'…" David paused there, gathering his emotions. He knew Stuart would mistake his hesitation for an analytic introspection. "But he also created an emotive feedback that would allow the Mecha to develop it's own internal sense of reasoning…. Reasoning that would allow it to create internal metaphors and make its own decisions about what to pursue and why."

He finally looked up into Stuart's eyes.

"But why?" David said. "Why bother doing that? As long as the simulator can just appear to return love, as long as it can just appear to be curious and to play and do all the other things that 'real' children do, why make it actually experience those things?"

David paused, letting the rhetorical question sink in. Stuart gestured for him to continue.

"Because he had a vision," David continued, confidently. "Because everything we are doing is leading to something bigger. Making the 500s react to stimuli in the same way we do, including the same peripheral data we do and for the same reasons, creates a new avenue for processing. Only in the lab do we consider this data superfluous.

"And when we do eventually develop the kind of motion capability that leads to a Mecha that can actually run bases and slide into home plate, then it will already be able to make decisions based on the emotional temperament of the opposing team members."

"Intriguing," Stuart said. "I'll admit to being with your Dad on this one. But it would make an interesting experiment." He stared thoughtfully at David. "You have an interesting perspective, David. Not many kids your age think about these things. You're one of a kind."

David looked away again. The words were too strange coming from this man's mouth. Stuart mistook David's aversion for shyness.

"But, I guess you're really not here to talk shop with me, are you?" Stuart said. David turned to face him, grateful for the change of subject

"Is she still mad at me?" he said. Stuart made that smile again; the one David could not read.

"I can tell you've led a bit of a sheltered life here," Stuart said. "Probably don't know a lot about girls, eh?" David acknowledged this with an embarrassed shrug. Stuart laughed again.

"Don't worry," he said. "If she's angry about something, it'll pass." He rose and stretched. "I'll go see if she's up yet."

David jumped up from the couch.

"Mr Ki-... uh, Stuart," he said as the man started to leave. Stuart stopped and turned, fixing David with that questioning look that made him so uncomfortable.

"Do you know her friends very well?" he said. Stuart slid his hands in the pockets of his bathrobe and thought.

"Well, I've met Jazzy. A little crazy, but a good kid. She's honest. And I've met Zee and … oh, the skinny one with the painted face?"

"Frill?"

"Ah yes. That's his name. And I've met a few others whose names I can't recall. But I try not to intrude too much. Amanda's not a little girl anymore. And she's always shown discretion in choosing her company."

"What about Ice?" David said.

Stuart chewed his lip for a moment, trying to recall.

"Can't say I remember that name," he said. "But, like I said, she's old enough now to choose her own-"

"His real name is Martin," David interrupted. He tried to keep his voice even. But just saying the name made his jaws clench. Stuart seemed to notice the anger beneath David's forced calm. He cocked his head as he tried to place the name.

"Martin… Martin," he said. "Ah! You mean Henry's boy? Henry Swinton?"

David flinched involuntarily. Stuart definitely caught this one. He crossed his arms and a look of concern crossed his face.

"David," he said, "is there something going on that I should -"

"Well, look what the ocean washed up!"

The voice surprised them both. They turned to see Amanda standing in the doorway to her room, one arm cocked on her hip as she eyed David accusingly. She was, as usual, already dressed as if she was headed out to an informal gathering.

"So, has he regained his ability to speak yet?" Amanda said.

"Morning, honey," Stuart said, casting an amused look at David. "His voice was working a moment ago."

"Hi, Amanda," David said sheepishly. "Sorry about last night."

Amanda's eyes widened, and she raised her arms to the ceiling.

"Hallelujah! It's a miracle!" she said, dancing around like a tent revival preacher. Stuart tried not to laugh, but could only hide his mouth as he snickered.

"Guess I deserve that," David said softly.

"Yes, you do," Amanda said. "And you deserve that black eye too!"

"Mandy," Stuart said, recrimination in his voice. Amanda surrendered with a sigh.

"Okok, that was a bit much. Sorry," she said. Then she shoved her door open wide and then stormed into her room. "Why don't we continue our little chat in here," she said over her shoulder.

Stuart patted David on the back, his face bearing that strange smile again; the one that David could not read before. But now he thought he might finally understand what it meant: '_You really stepped in it this time!'_

**3**

Amanda's room stood in stark contrast to the rest of the apartment. Colorful décor, odd knickknacks, numerous images and posters, both static and motion capable. Her console monitor displayed some game she'd been playing on pause; a vast snowy landscape with anime characters frozen in the middle of doing battle. And a silent Mecha sat in a corner chair. It was a 'Sheila'; a generic female simulator used as everything from secretaries to prostitutes. The bot smiled at David as he entered.

"That's my tutor," Amanda said. "I actually preferred going to school, with all my friends. But I guess those days are over." She tapped the tutor on the shoulder. "We are going to talk now. Go sit in the living room until I need you," she said. The Sheila rose obediently and left the room.

"You know, they don't record conversations unless they're told to," David said.

Amanda ignored him and jumped on the fluffy cushions of her bed. She grabbed her pod from a nightstand and gestured that David find someplace to sit.

"Look what you started," she said as David leaned against her windowsill. He watched as she flipped through a few of the small holographs floating over her pod, and stopped at one that resembled a rotating ice cube. She looked up at David with an accusing glare, and pressed a key.

"_Mandy! Why the hell were you acting like that? And what were you doing with that guy? Where'd you meet him? You'd better be careful. That guy's some kind of hustler or something. Call me."_

David was about to say something, but she held up a finger to silence him, and hit another key.

"_I know you got my message, Mandy! You better call me. There's stuff you need to know about this 'Blue' guy. First off, that's not his real name. And no matter what he says about me, it's all bull. This is not a game. Call me!"_

"Amanda," David started. But she keyed another message before he could finish.

"_Hey, Amanda. Sorry for that last message. I just…. Look, don't be mad at me, alright? I should have met you at the show, but I had to take care of other business. So call me back, ok? I just want to talk. And I heard about those CJ idiots. I hope you didn't get hurt. I should have asked about that last night. But when I saw that guy I… just call me back… please."_

The sound of Martin's futile pleas brought David a quick sense of guilty joy. He turned his head, pretending to be enjoying the view outside her window so she wouldn't see him smile. But it was too late.

"You think this is funny?" Amanda said, brows furrowed. "Because it's not. It's definitely not!"

"No, no," David said, shaking his head. "Not funny. I agree. Sorry."

"There's seven more of those things, David" Amanda said, looking at him as if he had been the one that made them. "I even had a call from security, asking me questions about it."

David had never heard of simple messages triggering an alert. But he didn't get a chance to say anything.

"And there's no telling what he's left in my inbox!" Amanda continued quickly. "I've only known this guy for a few months. It's not my fault he thinks that just because he takes me to a few shows and buys me a few gifts - which I never asked for, by the way - that he now thinks he gets to double check my every move in life, and I'll be damned if I get stuck in the middle of some stupid 'guy thing' between you two. I don't know how you two met or what the hell is going on between you now, but neither of you have any right to-"

"Amanda!"

It was the first time David was able to stop her. It must have been the tone of his voice. Or maybe she'd remembered how he got the bruise above his eye. But she did stop; gritting her teeth in frustration.

David rose and walked to her bedside. She followed him with her eyes, but said nothing. He knelt beside her and reached for her hand. Amanda pulled away at first, glaring. But when he reached again, she relented.

"I met Martin a long time ago. We were just kids." David paused a moment, deciding how to continue. "It was at a party and …we got into a fight. And … and that's all I can tell you right now."

"What?" Amanda said. She pulled her hand away again and retreated to the other side of her bed. She sat up and wrapped herself in her blanket. "You got into a fight when you were kids? That's it? So … what then? You don't see each other for years and then the war starts all over again? So what was all the 'he's a hustler' and 'don't trust him' stuff about? Huh? I'm not stupid David!"

"I know you're not," David said. "But that's all I can tell you now. It's a long complicated story. And neither of us can be objective about it. But, the fact is, you can't tell him anything about me. You can't tell him I live here. Can't tell him anything we've talked about. And in turn I promise to keep you out of it. I'll never ask you about him. Deal?"

Amanda glared at him a moment more. Slowly she calmed and started watching the avatars that were appearing and disappearing silently over her pod.

"Damn. Everybody is texting me," she said. She raised her eyes to David. "And it's probably all about you! They're all like: 'Hey Mandy, what's up with Blue's bodyguard?' 'Yo, is that guy rich or something?', 'Found yourself a badass now, Mandy-girl'." She sighed and relaxed against the headboard of her bed.

"I don't get it, David," she said, softly. "I don't get the hatred between you two. It's almost like…" She stopped a moment, looking as if about to breach a tender subject. "Were you … I mean you and Martin… were you like, boyfriends or something?"

"What?" David guffawed. "No! Why would you think …No!"

"Because, I wouldn't care," Amanda continued. "It's not like it's a big deal. Frill used to go out with that guy Myron, before he got all into that CJ crap… then Frill met Zee and… you know. It's normal for some guys to like each other."

David finally managed to stop laughing.

"It's nothing like that, Amanda," he said, chuckling; amused by the idea.

"Then what?" she said, trying to understand the rivalry. "Is it some kind of family thing? Are you related?"

David looked at her seriously.

"No." he said. It wasn't really a lie. It wasn't really the truth. It was like everything else about his life; somewhere in between.

"Boy, that idea sure shut you up," she said, eying him skeptically. "Wonder why that is?"

No, she wasn't stupid, David thought. And he had to be careful. He rose and looked at Amanda with sober eyes.

"Maybe someday I'll explain it all. But I only came to apologize for acting that way on the ride home. And I wanted to tell you that, even with the fight and the insanity, last night was the best time I've had in years. I hope we can do it again sometime. But that's up to you. And if we do, I'll be wearing my own clothes."

Amanda rolled her eyes at that. But said nothing.

"I know this place is boring for someone like you," David continued. "Someone with so many friends and so used to the city and the noise and parties and all. But I am very happy you came here and I hope we can stay friends."

He turned and headed for the door.

"Nice exit monologue," Amanda said, clapping as David put his hand on the doorknob. He turned so that she could see him roll his eyes. Then he opened the door.

"Bookworm," she said. David gave her a sour look.

"Ok, ok. I mean David," she corrected herself.

"Better," he said.

"Sorry about your eye," she said. "And just so you know, I had a good time too."

"All of it?" David said. Amanda gave him one of her impatient looks.

"Yes, all of it, d'uh," she said. "Well, except for the fighting part. The 'other stuff' was pretty ok." She smiled a smile that reminded him why he was always giving in to her little whims.

"That's good to know," he said. Then he turned to leave.

"David!"

"What!" he said, using the 'impatient' look on her for a change.

"Have we met before?" she said.

David felt a rush of excitement roll up his spine. How badly he'd love to tell her the truth. How badly he wanted to tell everyone.

"Yes," he said. "If I remember right, we went out together last night, when I got punched in the head. And then the day before that we bought some stupid blue suit online, even though I just wanted some jeans. And the day before that I believe we had breakfast together and-"

"Ok, wise ass!" she said, laughing. "You know what I mean. It's just that, sometimes you seem so familiar. Like we've met before"

David shrugged.

""Maybe it was in another life," he said. Then he left to see his Father. They had much to discuss. Storm clouds were forming on the horizon.

**4**

Alan Hobby was sitting at his desk when David arrived, deep in conversation with someone on his console monitor. The monitor was turned so David could not see with whom he spoke, but the man's brow was creased in an expression of concern. Behind him, the giant flatscreen on the wall soundlessly portrayed various panels of news feeds from around the world. David recognized one of the featured stories and knew he would have to deal with the events of last night before he could discuss the 'Martin' problem.

Hobby looked up at David, and gestured that the boy should have a seat. David plopped down on the couch; gently massaging his bruised head as he waited for his father to finish whatever business he was engaged in.

"… _and for all we know at this point, it could have just been something in the lab," _the voice from his father's monitor said. It was a woman's voice, and sounded vaguely familiar.

"Mario is inland for the weekend, but I'm sure everything is locked up," Hobby said.

"_It checks out on my end too, but we still shouldn't rule it out," _replied the voice._ "Truth is, unless there's another attempt, we might not be able to trace it."_

David wasn't sure what they were talking about, but it didn't seem to involve him. He started watching the news feeds as he waited. The panel carrying the Nexus story featured images of police copters landing in a plaza, screaming kids running from the exits, and handcuffed CJ boys inside a lock-up unit, snarling and spitting at the camera. David knew one of those faces. It was Myron, the boy who had struck him; the one who, according to Amanda, had once run with the Shiny kids, and had been in a relationship with Frill. David wondered what had happened to make him change so drastically. But apparently Myron was enjoying his moment in the spotlight; something to brag to his new friends about later.

Then something in his Fathers conversation caught David's attention.

"_We took a look at your new hire,"_ the voice said. _"The girl had a lot of incoming but nothing too far out of the ordinary. Are you confident in the man's vetting?"_

Hobby noticed David's curious gaze.

"Don't worry about that, Jenna," he said quickly, as if he there was something he didn't want David to hear. "Keep me posted. I don't care what time it is."

"_Will do, Alan."_

Hobby closed the connection and slapped his palms on the desk.

"Well, that's an interesting fashion statement," he said. "I guess all adventures have their price."

"It's not as bad as it looks," David said.

Hobby stood and walked to the couch. He knelt before his son, and scrutinized his bruised head. David pulled back when he gently touched it.

"Ow," David said. "Don't do that."

Hobby regarded David thoughtfully.

"Those aren't exactly the colors I was hoping you'd find," he said, chuckling. "Did you stop by the clinic?"

"I'm fine," David said. ""I've lived through worse." Hobby conceded this with a nod and patted David gently on the shoulder.

"I'll have someone drop in on you later," he said as he rose and went to sit behind his desk again. But David just waved his arm dismissively.

"I'm fine," he said.

"Stubborn," Hobby said.

"It's just my own self-motivated reasoning," David quipped. His father laughed. Then he leaned back in his chair and his face grew serious.

"Have you been on any social sites today?" he said. "Been sending any texts or images… videos?"

David shook his head.

"How about the 500?" Hobby said. "Were you working on it, or any of the other projects?"

"I've been a bit out of it today," David said. "Just laid around. Went to visit Amanda for a while. Why?"

"Probably nothing," Hobby said. "That was Jenna West on the line. She's with Cyber Security. Apparently something triggered an alert while trying to access a restricted account. But it could have just been a routine that was left running in the lab… something trying to login with an expired password, perhaps."

"Has this got anything to do with Amanda's messages?" David said. He wondered if his Father knew who the messages were from. But the man gave no indication that he knew, or that he cared if he did know. He just waved the subject away.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Nothing was breached and whatever it was, has stopped. Jenna's flying in tomorrow to scan the building. Just for safety first." He was quiet a moment, tapping his chin. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to cover all the bases," he said pensively.

David understood more than his Father thought. He was talking about Stuart King. This Jenna woman had suggested that Stuart might have been the source of the security alert. She had asked if the man had been fully vetted. And now his Father was having his first doubts about adding the man so quickly.

But David had no worries about Stuart. He had other things on his mind.

"Dad," David said. "Something happened last night I think we need to talk about."

"Oh , you mean this?" Hobby said, turning to the flatscreen. "Enlarge frame two," he said, and the story about the Nexus went fullscreen. He tapped the remote and the volume came up. A woman's voice was speaking over images from the night before. The same images that had been scrolling since David walked in.

"… _of Nexus security dismissed complaints of overbooking, saying the problem was caused by a gang known as Crash Jammers; violent youths who are known for causing mayhem at public events. But this is not the first time Nexus plaza has faced complaints of negligence."_

The scene finally changed to a smiling man in a dark suit, standing before a glass wall with a white logo etched in its surface; a large 'O' with a smiling mustached man in its center. David knew that logo. He'd seen it on a copter in the parking bay last night.

"_We spoke with Taylor Mann," _the reporter continued. _"Attorney for Olmier Enterprises, owners and operators of The Nexus Plaza."_

David bolted up in the chair. Had he just heard what he thought he'd heard? Hobby noticed his alarm and turned to face him.

"Was that the guy who punched you?" he joked.

"Not funny, Dad," David said, shushing his father. He wasn't sure if he'd heard the reporter correctly. But he had to find out. Something was suddenly occurring to him, something that should have been obvious all along.

"_No institution is immune to the type of organized violence these youth groups commit,"_ Taylor Mann said. _"The Nexus deploys state-of-the-art security simulants; each capable of scanning for contraband and weapons, and fully licensed to do so. But we still haven't developed a way to scan a person's intentions; and we can't be expected to take responsibility for their unexpected behavior."_

"_But would it really be unexpected that a group of kids known for violence might do something like this?" _the reporter said.

"_What should we do?" _Mann replied._ " Profile? Refuse entry to kids in dark clothing and tattoos? That's half our clientele!" _Mann laughed at his own joke. The reporter was not so amused.

"_This isn't the first incident like this_," she said._ "Hasn't the Nexus been the target of lawsuits before?" _

Mann made a disarming smile.

"_Yes, there have been issues in the past, and we have offered appropriate recompense when we were genuinely liable. But those cases were few. Very few. No more than any of the other clubs who cater to young people. More often than not, these cases are simply opportunists trying to take advantage of other's misfortunes. A successful business like Olmier Enterprises is bound to become a target for such people."_

The reporter began asking another question. But David wasn't listening anymore. His fears had been confirmed. He stood slowly, his mind racing.

"Olmier," David said. Could it be _that_ Olmier?

"What's wrong, David," Hobby said. He muted the monitor again, and stood with a look of concern on his face.

"How could I miss that?" David said. He remembered how tight the security had been, and remembered thinking that Sy would never have worked a place like the Nexus…. _unless he had someone inside!_

David started for the door, speaking over his shoulder as he left. "Dad, you have to lock up any outbound communications… and send security to my room… and Amanda's room! And tell them to bring scanners!"

"David! What's going on?" Hobby said, as David rushed away. But David had no time to explain.

"Just do it, Dad!" he yelled.

David had finally realized why a bunch of Crash Jammers would start a fight in a place where they were sure to get arrested. It was because they knew they'd have cash awaiting them when they got out. Martin was suddenly the last thing on his mind. Any threat the boy posed had been dwarfed by the likely presence of a roving snooper, one that would, to the ordinary eye, look like nothing more than a small insect.

_A spider_.

He ran for his room, hoping the snoop hadn't found anything that would reveal his identity to one of the last people he'd want to be exposed: Dreven Olmier!

_(cont..)_


	31. Chapter 31

_(edited 7-7-12, because I forgot David still had a black eye. D'oh. Too much time between updates.)**  
**_

**Alive**

**Book 2**

**Pt8**

**1**

David studied the grotesque thing that filled the monitor in his Father's study. It was about the size of a dust mote. Ordinarily it would have drawn no more attention than a speck of lint on a sleeve, or a crumb fallen against a lapel. But magnified on the screen, it appeared as large transparent spider, veined with a nanoparticles that lined its interior like sparkling dust. That dust now presumably contained personal information about David. The little spy raced back and forth inside its small glass prison for a minute, before its tiny processor realized that it was trapped. Then it began to sizzle and pop. In moments it melted to a tiny smear of some oily fluid against the glass.

David sighed and looked at Amanda, who was sitting beside him on the couch, fidgeting and casting guilty glances at the people who had gathered in the room.

Alan Hobby sighed and placed his head in his hands.

Grace, who had just got back from Inland this morning, clucked her tongue as she watched her boss's reaction. She'd had no idea what kind of storm had been awaiting her.

Mario swore and struck the wall with his open palm. This was a big breach. Never had anything got inside the lab perimeter.

Stuart King crossed his arms and said nothing. He hadn't been here long enough to offer an opinion.

Jenna West plucked the remote from Hobby's desk, scrolled the video back to the point before the snoop self-destructed, and froze the image. She paced back and forth a few times, arms crossed, tapping her chin with a finger. Then set her cold blue gaze on David, her face in a stone expression that he could not read.

"So, let's start from the beginning," she said, pulling up chair and sitting in it backwards, arms draped across the back, like a disappointed parent about to give a lecture.

"Again?" David said, incredulous.

"Again," Jenna confirmed. David started to object but caught the look in his Father's eye.

"Ok," he said. He started all over, recounting the events of Saturday night. Jenna listened carefully, tapping her pod occasionally to mark a place in the audio she was recording.

**2**

She had arrived before dawn and had immediately taken charge, barking orders even as she exited her copter in Hobby's parking bay. She'd strode into the reception room exuding a daunting sense of authority, and looking a lot more stylish than David would expect from someone in the field of cyber-security. Jet black suit, hugging her trim body like a second skin. Golden blonde mane, clipped at the shoulders. Brilliant blue eyes that seemed to miss nothing.

She'd instructed the in-house security to stand down after both the snoops they'd found had self-destructed immediately upon detection. One had been located in Amanda's room, lodged in the frame of her desktop; and the other, as they'd suspected, in the lab. But it was not where they expected. It had been caught hiding in the hair of one of a functional butler prototype. How it tried to send the signal was yet to be discovered

Both of the snoops had registered on the scanner and then immediately melted. Jenna was bringing a new type of scanner, she'd explained. It was something special, and would not trigger the auto-destruct feature these new snoops had. She'd found the last one quickly, tucked into the keyboard of David desktop. They had managed to catch this one intact, but it had destroyed itself just minutes later, before they had a chance to find out what it had learned.

"It must have been looking for passwords," Jenna had explained. "It seemed to be using a pretty simple keystroke routine to get the information." It seemed like an antiquated method to everyone in the room, but Jenna explained that it logical, especially since it was a physical spy.

"These things can't retain much data," Jenna had explained. "Numbers. Passwords. It's sent it bundled to the hacker, and then they have to figure out what the data is for and where to use it."

But getting the stolen data past Cybertronics security was another matter. This was where the snoop had failed… at least they hoped.

Now Jenna wanted to find out how they got here.

**3**

"…and then we came home," David finished, hoping that Jenna wasn't going to ask him to repeat the story again. He knew what she was doing, having him repeat the story, marking certain places in the audio to later analyze for voice stress patterns. Of course it was highly improbable that David would be involved in a plot to spy on his Father's company, and the snoops had obviously been randomly placed. But a person in Jenna West's business wasn't paid to trust anyone.

When David finished, Jenna glanced at Amanda. The girl flinched thinking it was her turn for another recitation. But Jenna had apparently had enough too. Or perhaps it was the ill-tempered look on Stuart's face that made her change her mind.

"Alight kids," she said, rising from the chair. "You're off the hook for now."

"Can we still go Inland?" Amanda asked anxiously. It was the first time David had heard her sound so acquiescent.

"Sure," Jenna said, in a reassuring tone. "But I want you to do full spectrum scans in and out for a while, okay?"

"Is that safe?" Stuart said.

"As long as they're not doing it more than once a day," she said. Then she turned to Hobby. "Fortunately all the attempts to connect to the net were blocked … well, as far as we can tell at this point. These things can't retain much data and don't have a very long life. But they far were too sophisticated to be from some amateur operation, that's for sure. I think it would be prudent if we-" Jenna stopped suddenly, and looked at David and Amanda.

"Bye kids," she said with a smile. The smile didn't reach her eyes. The two rose quickly and headed for the door.

Grace caught David's attention as they left, pointing at his eye and silently mouthing the word "clinic". David waved his hand to let her know it wasn't hurting anymore and stepped up to catch Amanda. He knew Grace would find him later and fuss about his black eye until he was forced to take some unnecessary medication. But the emergency would keep her busy for a while.

When they were outside the room, the adults started talking again. David hoped they wouldn't be at it too long. There were issues he had to address with father; things they had to discuss alone. But the unexpected presence of snoops would take precedence for a while.

"Man, she's cold," Amanda hissed, as they waited for the elevator. "And irritating!"

"It's just her job," David said, remembering a very different Jenna from his party. She'd been smiling and joking with Grace and her friends. But even then she'd seemed very attentive. Not the kind of person you could easily fool.

The elevator finally arrived and the two boarded. They were quiet a moment after the doors closed, each lost in their own thoughts. Amanda still fuming about Jenna and David thinking over what had happened. He finally broke the silence.

"I couldn't help but notice you left Martin out of the story," he said.

"Yeah," she replied, evenly. "I was noticing the same thing about you."

The fell into silence again, until the elevator stopped.

"Oh well," David sighed, as they exited onto the cafeteria floor. "We shouldn't be surprised if Jenna figures it out."

**4**

Not many Inlanders would call the Cybertronics eatery a 'cafeteria'. It looked more like a pseudo-posh restaurant that took up almost a third of the floor. The decor was dark polished wood, and plants were positioned around the tables and hanging from the ceiling, adding a rustic touch to a generally artificial environment. Soft trance music was pumped in, creating a mood that almost made up for the food, which tended to look better than it tasted. But the service was good. And you never had to worry about tipping the waiters. They had no need for money.

David pushed his breakfast around the plate with a fork as he thought. Through the windows that lined the cafeteria, he could see storm clouds on the horizon. But there was no way to know if they were headed this way and, due to climate change, predictions weren't very accurate any more.

"You aren't hungry?" Amanda said as she tore into her meal.

David shrugged. The food was rather bland. There had been some kind of shipping delay and the organics he always ordered online, had not yet arrived. So he'd been making due with company supply, which was laced with preservatives and artificial flavorings, all of which tasted like plastic to him.

Amanda was not obviously so picky and was loudly relishing her strawberry syrup drenched protein cakes.

"It's doesn't make sense," David said as he toyed with his food. Amanda gobbled up another mouthful before she spoke.

"What doesn't make sense?" she said as she chewed. David grimaced.

"You have no manners at all, do you?" he said. Amanda rolled her eyes and made a hand gesture her father would not approve of.

"The snoops," David continued. "They go to all this trouble to place these things, but the bugs can't get past simple security blocks to send the information? I don't get it."

"Nothing to get," Amanda said as she scooped more the sweet stuff into her mouth. "They screwed up. Somebody sold them a bunch of new toys that didn't work."

"Either that or they were after something else," he said.

"You're doing it again," Amanda sighed.

"Doing what?"

"Making things unnecessarily complicated," she said. "Always proceed with the simplest explanation until a more complex view is supported by the evidence."

"Not bad," David said, raising his eyebrows. "Occam's Razor."

"Yeah, that thing," Amanda replied and chomped down another mouthful.

Mario and a few techs entered the cafeteria and took seats at a booth across the room. They immediately fell into a tense conversation, huddled close like a football team outlining a difficult play. Mario was whispering and gesturing like a disappointed quarterback. Things were going to be like this for a while, David guessed. He turned back to Amanda.

"I'm impressed," he said.

"About what?" she replied, licking her fork clean.

"That you knew Occam's Razor," he said.

"Misogynist," she replied.

"Misogynist? Why? For being impressed?"

"For assuming I wouldn't know about that," she said.

"Ok, first of all, that's not what misogynist means," David replied. "And even if it did mean that, what I said wouldn't make me a misogynist. It would just make me … wait. That's not what I meant. I mean that, what I said was… ok, let say that I didn't assume that you didn't know …" he stopped again, exasperated. How did she always do this to him?

Amanda was obviously enjoying his fumbling reply.

"Ok, it just makes you a snob," she teased as she pushed her plate aside and dug into a bowl of honey-drenched peaches. "Anyway, security is tighter here than in an regular home. So naturally it would be harder for bugs to get a line out. Right?"

"I guess," David said. "But what if they were after something else? I mean, the bugs self-destructed before they could be analyzed. We're only assuming they were trying to collect data."

Amanda was quiet a moment. David was waiting for her to speak, assuming that she had taken to this new line of thinking and was coming up with a logical response. But when she finally responded it was clear there were other things on her mind.

"You're afraid of Martin," she said.

"What?" David said. "What's that got to do with the subject?"

"Nothing," Amanda replied. "Jenna seems capable of handling that problem. Like you said, 'it's her job'. Right? I was talking about Martin. You're afraid of him. Why?"

"Amanda," David sighed, "I thought we agreed to let this go."

Amanda was obviously not letting it go.

"I left him out of the story because, in spite of his occasional tendency to be a complete asshat, I still like him," she said. "So, why'd you leave him out?"

As David stammered through a response, she put her face over her bowl and scooped her dessert into her mouth, peering up at him with taunting eyes. But David quickly realized he didn't have a suitable lie and, after all, she was just doing this to annoy him.

"You're not going to let this go are you?" he said.

Amanda picked up her bowl, lifted her head and poured pouring the last of the honey into her mouth. Then she set the bowl down, let out a long satisfied sigh and leaned back in her chair, smiling at David.

"Nope," she said. "It bugs you too much."

Ok, David thought. Fight fire with fire. It was his turn for a sudden and inexplicable change of subject.

"You've got to introduce me to Frill," he said.

Amanda's brows twisted in confusion. She gazed up at the ceiling a moment, as if something up there might help her make sense of David's sudden detour. Then a knowing look slowly grew in her eyes, and a smile formed on her face.

"Taking a walk on the wild side?" she said.

"Amanda!" David blurted, catching the attention of the techs who glanced over, but went quickly back to their business. The serving Mecha approached, thinking there might be something David needed. But he waved it away, and leaned forward to whisper.

"Don't even go there," he said to the giggling girl. "I just want to speak with him."

"Oh, suuure," she said in a sly voice. "Isn't that how these things always start? 'Oh, Mandy-girl, can you introduce me to your friend?' As a matter of fact I think that's what Zee said."

"Stop!" David said. Amanda donned a melodramatic pout, and twisted one of her long braids in her fingers.

"And here I thought we had a thing going on," she said.

"Okok, I get it," David said. "But I'm trying to be serious now."

"Me too," she replied.

David hesitated. He hadn't expected this.

"I would like very much to think that we have a thing going on too," he said. "But, right now there's a lot of other stuff going on, and I need to figure out how to deal with it."

His words made her smile and he had to look away before his new Orga urges distracted him from his train of thought. Amanda straightened up in her seat like a chastened schoolgirl, folded her hands on the table and gave him her rapt attention. David continued.

"Now, you said Frill used to go out with that Crash Jammer guy… um… Myron. Right?"

"So?"

"Well, I want Frill to introduce me to him."

"Why?" she replied. "Frill's a lot cuter. I mean, just imho."

"Ahh!" David groaned, grasping his head in his hands. "Are you ever going to quit with this?"

"Not in your wildest dreams," she replied, laughing.

Wildest dreams! That reminded David. If Mario was here, then his Dad's meeting must be over. He rose quickly.

"Relax! I was just kidding," Amanda, said.

"I'm not angry," David said. "I just have to see my Dad now. Will you do me favor and hook me up with Fr… I mean, just send him my addy, ok? I'll work it out?"

"Suuure," Amanda said with a wink. "I'll just let you two 'work it out'."

David ignored the tease as he raced for the elevator. He had to speak with his Father before his two old friends started salvaging someplace they shouldn't. It was the place where his wildest dreams had come true, and David didn't want _'Her' _to be disturbed.

**5**

Alan Hobby sat down heavily behind his desk and rubbed his eyes. Everyone was gone now. Jenna had headed back inland and the rest had gone to work. It had been a long and eventful morning and Hobby obviously didn't feel like dealing with another emergency… especially one that he didn't understand. He considered David's request for a moment before he responded.

"That's a lot to ask for without an explanation, David," he said, slipping on his reading glasses so he could browse his inbox while they spoke.

"Please trust me on this one," David said. "I can't stop them."

"What makes you think I can?"

"We own that property, don't we?" David said. "I mean, it's Cybertronics', right?"

"Technically no. It's actually government land," Hobby said. "We have an agreement with the Fed for rights of use and it's a Mecha restricted zone, so we are allowed some authority to police. But I don't have the power to tell licensed divers where they can search. Skipper and Eddie have rights too. If the area is legally open for salvage, there's not much I can do."

"This is important!"

Hobby shot David an impatient look. But David wasn't about to apologize for his tone of voice. This matter was too critical.

"It's so damned important that you can't explain to me why?" Hobby said.

David returned his Father's gaze without speaking. The silent battle of wills went on for tense moments before Hobby finally relented with sigh.

"Ok, ok. I think I can… well, I am sure I can close the area off by claiming a security breach. And I guess we did have a real one, so I wouldn't be lying. But that will only get you a week or so, before Skipper can legally challenge me to provide justification for the ban."

"Good enough for now," David said. "When can you start?"

Hobby waved a dismissive hand and went back to his inbox.

"I'll send out an alert now, and have security place some markers tonight," he said. But he suddenly turned back to David, a revelation blooming in his eyes.

"David," he started slowly, "has this situation got anything to do with the investigation some years back?"

"Huh?" David responded. It was stupid sound; the sound of someone being caught off guard.

"A few months before you returned," Hobby said, "there was a team of Feds digging around beyond the breakwaters, on the outskirts of the restricted zone. They were being all hush-hush about it and since there was no internal security breach, I wasn't contacted. But now…" Hobby stopped suddenly, and placed a finger to his chin. In his expression, David could see the man's mind putting things together.

After all this time.

David had never told his 'Father' where the miracle had occurred. Over the years he had been amazed that neither Hobby nor Grace had ever put it together. But then again, what remained of the old world was still a mystery. The maps of the submerged zones showed an area where an old amusement park was supposed to be. But of what forgotten treasures still lay within the sunken ruins, there was no indication.

"Dad," David said, breaking Hobby from his train of thought. "Please. Don't go there. You have to trust me on this. And…. and I have to trust you."

Alan Hobby gazed intently on his miraculous child. The man's eyes told all. He had figured it out. David could see it. But after a moment he simply leaned forward, clasped his hands together, and rested his elbows on the desk.

"What else did you want to tell me?" he said.

So he knew now. He knew where _She _must be. David decided not to press the issue. This man had created him; knew everything about him. If he could not trust his Father, then whom could he trust?

"It's Martin," David said. "I think Martin Swinton is going to become a problem"

David told the story of running into Martin after the chaos of the concert. He told about the boy's rocky relationship with Amanda and the pestering messages he'd sent her, the warnings and innuendos of threats. Alan Hobby listened carefully, silently, but oddly didn't seem surprised by this information. When David had finished recounting the incident, the man leaned back and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"Interesting," he said. "Why didn't you bring this up to Jenna?"

"I don't know," David said with an embarrassed shrug. "It didn't seem like it mattered."

"Come on, son," Hobby said, a disapproving look in his eye. "If you don't want to tell me, just say so. But don't lie. Both you and Amanda omitted Martin. Why?"

David shuffled uncomfortably.

"Dad, if I brought Martin into the story, Jenna might want to ask him questions… and who knows where that would lead. You understand that, don't you?"

Hobby hummed thoughtfully as he leaned back. He was quiet for a time, tapping a finger on the desk as he stared off into his thoughts. David finally grew impatient.

"Dad?" he said.

"Oh, sorry, David," Hobby said, sitting up straight in his chair. "I just…" he paused another moment. "Look, this security breach was rather unprecedented in more ways than one. But there are some things about it that I am not free to discuss with you… at least not yet. You'll learn about everything in good time. But until then I just want you to keep me informed about anything that comes up with young Mister Swinton, ok?"

"What is it?" David said. "Has it got something to do with Monica?"

"Not Monica," Hobby said.

"Dad!" David said. "Don't play games with me. This is what you pulled with Stuart, when you knew that I had met before but didn't say anything. It's like you're experimenting with me! I'm not a toy! I never was."

But Alan Hobby just held his palms up to signify he would say no more.

"Relax, David, relax. It's nothing like that," he said. "Now, if you run into Martin again, don't confront him. And if you can't avoid a confrontation, mention nothing about the security breach. Just let me know when and where and who he was with, if anyone."

David considered his Father's words. They were strange, weren't they? Why would the story about Martin lead him to think of the breach?

"You think Martin had something to do with the snoops, don't you?" he said.

Hobby's eyes widened to the point it was comical. But David didn't laugh. The man was clearly angry.

"It's time stop talking, son," Hobby said. "I know you had a rough weekend, but let's not cross the line, ok? You asked me to trust you. Now it's your turn to trust me."

"Sorry," David said.

But he really wasn't sorry. Because he too had a strange thought that Martin's presence was more than just a simple coincidence. And his Father had just inadvertently let him know he was onto something.

But what did the man know? And why couldn't he say? David was determined to find out.

**6**

Day was growing to a close. David paced his room, plucking at his lute while he considered the series of unexpected events that had conspired to make his life complicated. Outside his window he saw that the distant thunderheads, which had been hovering on the horizon all day, had grown closer since he'd first noticed them. They were violent hues of red and purple now, bathed in the glow of the setting sun.

It seemed a storm was headed this way after all. A perfect storm.

How could all this come down at the same time? What were the odds? And what other ghosts of the past might be awaiting around the next corner?

He'd put Skipper and Eddie on hold, but only for a short while. A week. Then what? He'd have to find a permanent solution for that one. And now Martin had somehow come back into his life, amazingly and ironically situated right in the middle of his friendship with Amanda.

Amanda! He still didn't know what was happening between them, if anything. First it was on, then off, and now…? He'd never forget the way she had pulled away from his embrace when Martin had appeared. But what was that thing in the cafeteria about? Did she really think they had 'a thing going on'? She sure wasn't acting like it.

David shook his head to get her out of his mind. He had other things to think about. Dark things. Like Dreven Olmier!

Again, what were the odds? The same night he runs into Martin, Olmier suddenly reappears. Both of them were a threat to his safety, and even the security of Cybertronics. On top of all this, his Father was holding something back. Something important. David was certain it had to do with the snoops. The connection to Olmier was obvious. But how did Martin fit in?

David ripped through a series of frustrated arpeggios as his mind raced with the possibilities. The notes came out muted and sloppy. He hadn't been practicing enough.

Breathe, he told himself.

He fell into his relaxing breathing rhythm. In moments his mind was calming. He tried the arpeggios again. '_Better',_ he said to himself. The discipline of playing always helped him get centered. He continued pacing and thinking, but slower now, and with more control.

His next step had something to do with the Crash Jam boy, Myron, but he wasn't sure exactly what it was yet. It would come. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could feel the plan already forming. Strange, how the Orga brain worked. It always surprised him, even after so many years. He could feel his subconscious mind shaping a strategy before he even knew all the parameters. It was so different than the way he used to think '_before'_. Like so many of the functions of his human body, it seemed to happen on its own, at some level beyond the cold realm of logic and reason. In this intuitive realm, a principle like Occam's Razor was too limiting; an antagonistic pest grasping at the wings of his imagination.

And wasn't it the purely Orga flight of fancy that had led him to search for the Blue fairy in the first place? Isn't that what had lead him here? Where did that irrational leap of faith fit on the scale of reason?

Sometimes you had to just go with your gut.

David's laptop suddenly buzzed, breaking him from his thoughts. He knew who this had to be. He set his lute down and sat at his deck. The message was simple yet said everything.

"_wtf?"_ it said.

David laughed.

"_Hi Eddie" _he replied.

"_Ur Dad just lockd us out of Frrs Wheel! WTF?"_

"_Security breach" _David wrote. He hated lying to his friends, but necessity can be merciless at times.

"_BS!"_

David waited before he responded.

"_Real breach Eddie. Big 1" _

It was Eddie's turn to hesitate.

"_Ok. U only get 1 wk. Then show cause or we sue!"_

David was about to type a reply when his pod went off. What now? He glanced at the ID. _'Franklin Lebov_' was the name. Who was that? The number wasn't familiar either. But even though he had no idea who was calling, he was relieved to have a valid reason to exit the conversation with Eddie. It was getting a little heated.

"_Incoming. Later" _he wrote, and grabbed his pod before it went to voicemail.

Eddie would be pissed. He'd have to deal with that later.

"Hello?" David said.

"_Blue?"_

It took David a moment to recognize the voice.

"Frill?" he said.

"_Hey. Wazzup?" _Frill said. _"Mandy shot a me warning note about those bugs, and said you were interested in talking with me. So, here I am."_

Frill made a little laugh then. It was a conversational sound, one that someone uses to break the ice at the beginning of a long, intimate chat. David knew that Amanda was probably in her room, laughing. He'd get even later.

"Oh, yeah" David said. "Uh… I just wasn't expecting a call… I thought she'd give you my inbox addy."

'_Is this a bad time? Because, I can call later… or you can call me if you'd rather."_

"No, no," David said quickly. "Uh, this is fine. I'm actually glad you called….I mean, it's good you called. … inasmuch as it's just as good as email… uh, better I mean."

David cringed. He was sounding like an idiot. But Frill didn't seem to notice, or to care.

"_Works for me too. It's nice to hear your voice. What'd you wanna talk about?"_

David thought moment. Frill's relationship with Myron was a personal issue and they'd obviously had a bad breakup. David had learned how to read people during his time working the crowds with Sy's gang. But these 'Shiney' kids were different, and he knew he lacked the social skills to rush into this new terrain. He didn't want to mess things up by asking a lot of embarrassing questions. He'd have to continue carefully

"Frill, " he started. But he stopped as another thought came to him: After a breach like this weekend, he was certain security would be randomly monitoring calls. He didn't want to discuss Myron, or any of the Crash Kids for that matter, over the phone. He had to keep his plans to himself. This was getting complicated.

"_Blue?"_ Frill said over the awkward silence.

"Sorry," David said. "I was just… Look, can we meet somewhere… I mean, to talk."

"_Sure!" _Frill responded quickly. _I'll be at the Plaza next Saturday. Maybe we can catch dinner or something."_

"Dinner or something," David repeated, thinking. That would probably be a good way to talk things over. "Ok. Next week. Plaza. Sounds great," he said.

"_Zee got in a bit of trouble with his folks,"_ Frill added quickly.

"Sorry to hear," David replied, wondering what he was supposed to make of this information.

"_Yeah, it was over that freekin Jammer fight. His parents are kind of old fashion, so… ya know?"_

"Yeah, I understand," David said, understanding nothing.

"_My point is, he won't be around for a couple weeks."_

David considered this. His plan was to get Frill to take him to meet Myron, so he could try to get info about the Crash Jammers, which he hoped would lead him to the source of the bugs, which would likely lead him to Olmier. That was sure to be dangerous. So it was probably a good thing that Zee wasn't around to interfere.

"That's probably a good thing," David said.

"_Yeah,"_ Frill replied softly. _"I think so too"_

"Sooo, next Saturday," David said.

"_Sure thing, Blue. It'll be good to see ya again. G'nite."_

The line went dead.

Well, that was easy enough, David thought. Now he just had to arrange things with Ariel, for a ride to the Nexus. He hoped Dad wouldn't have any reservations about him going. Jenna had said it would be fine so-

His phone went off again. David snatched it up. _Mandy _was the word on the ID. He answered.

"Why are you calling?" David said. "You live two floors away!"

"_What did you do?"_ Amanda said, incredulity in her voice.

"When?"

"_With Frill?"_

"Nothing," David said, confused. "He called, but I didn't want to discuss anything over the phone. So I set up a meeting. Oh, are you good for next Saturday? Because I thought you might as well come along and we can-"

"_Daaaavid!"_

Amanda's scream was loud enough that he was certain he would have heard her even without the pod.

"What?" he replied.

"_Frill just sent me a text,"_ she said.

"So why are you asking me what we talked about when you already know?" David said.

"_Yeah, I know. I know he thinks you just asked him out!"_

"Asked him out?"

"_On a date? D'uh?"_

"Huh?" David replied. It was that stupid sound again. He quickly replayed the conversation in his head. The recollection would have been much easier and much more accurate if he still had digital brain, but what he remembered was accurate enough. No wonder Frill mentioned Zee wouldn't be around!

"Oops," was all he could manage to say.

"_Yeah,"_ Amanda said. _"Oops!" _

Then she started laughing.

David listened to her a moment before he closed the connection. He sighed as he picked up his lute and began playing, trying to find a place for this new situation on his already long list of unexpected complications.

Breathe.

_(cont…)_


	32. Chapter 32

**Alive**

**Book 2**

**Pt 9**

**1**

The Nexus Plaza was growing on the horizon, its glittering facade appearing warped and melting through the rain-soaked copter window. Of course it was just an illusion, produced by light being detoured as it traveled through the soaked glass. David wiped a palm over the condensation as he studied the distortion of light through the water. 186,000 miles a second. 299,338 kilometers. That's how fast the photons striking his iris were moving. They could travel around the earth in 7 times in a second. An incomprehensible speed. Incomprehensible distance, at least to the human mind. It could not wrap itself around the magnitude of such numbers. But it was these very photons, the fastest energy in the Universe, that allowed for sight. It was all anyone ever really saw; light. It bounced off everything, creating the sensation of color and intensity, brilliance, depth and distance. And from this illusory phenomenon of energy acting on energy, interacting with energy… the Universe becomes visible. Amazing.

And what was the speed of events? David suddenly wondered. Did duration itself have a maximum velocity? What was the speed of time? The idea amused him and he chuckled.

"Helloooo?"

Amanda's voice broke David from his pondering. He sat back and smiled at her. He was feeling much more comfortable than last time, because he'd chosen his own attire for this trip. 'Bohemian Casual' is how he might have been described by those who paid attention to such things. Faded jeans. Plain white dress shirt, made of real cotton. Increasing rare in this day and age. Plain black tie, knotted loosely at the neck, and a simple jacket of soft brown suede. It was comfortable. Casual. Unpretentious. It was David.

"Ground control to Major Dreamer," Amanda teased.

"Sorry," he said. "I was just… thinking,"

"About?"

"Um… the rain. It's been going on for three days now. Wondering when it was going to let up. That's all."

Amanda didn't grace this lie with a response. She knew he was 'floating' again, letting his mind drift out towards whatever port of introspection his mental currents took him. He'd been doing that more than usual lately.

"We're getting ready to land," she said.

"I can see that."

"Then you know what you're going to say… right?"

David rolled his eyes, a pointless gesture in the dark of the cabin, and shrugged the question off. A week earlier he had unintentionally asked Frill on a date. Now he was going to show up and not only have to tell him it had been a misunderstanding, but he was also going to inquire about Frill's ex, Myron; a line of questioning that could easily create the wrong impression. And he had to do all that without making Frill angry. He needed the boy's help.

"C'mon, Mandy. Of course I have something ready," he said.

Amanda shot him a sideways glance and clucked her tongue. It was a '_give me a break',_ kind of sound; like a disappointed teacher might make when a student says the dog chewed up his homework.

"You have no idea, do you?" she said. "You're just going to waltz in there and break his little heart." She sighed. "You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch."

"Amanda," David sighed.

"David," she sighed back.

The two teenagers frowned at each other for a moment before David finally broke the silence.

"So, who is this _Mr. Grinch_?" he said.

Amanda's jaw dropped and she slapped her forehead with an open palm. "G'uh?" she said, incredulously. "Were you ever a little kid?"

"Sort of," David replied. But Amanda wasn't playing anymore.

"Look David, Frill is a good friend of mine. He can rumble as good as any other guy, and he's not afraid of the occasional black eye. But deep inside he's as sweet as cotton candy and just as soft. Now, it's not really your fault that he took you wrong, but it's not really his fault that you're so … so charming and … irritatingly cute!"

David smiled. "Really? You think I'm-"

"Shut up!"

"Sorry."

"Now, even if it was by accident, you started this damned thing. You'd better end it gracefully, without hurting his feelings!"

David was quiet a moment, trying to shield himself from Amanda's accusing stare. He was about to reply when her phone suddenly went off. She answered, giving David one of her '_do not mess with me!' _looks before she spoke.

"Jazzy gal!" Amanda said, suddenly cheerful and carefree. "Yeah we'll be parking in a minute or two. Where you guys at?"

David didn't listen to the rest. He was pretty sure it would be the usual Shiny jib-jab the girls talked about, and it had all begun to wear on him. Just a few weeks ago it had been so alluring, this realm of the Bright Flock; their world had seemed an enticing mystery. But the illusion was best at a distance. In the midst of it he saw on only more of the human obsession with flashing lights and noise, sound and fury; the incessant clamor of the mundane. The thrill was wearing off.

He set his sights back on the rain-drenched panorama outside, letting his mind wander on the incomprehensible reality that everyone else seemed to have long since taken for granted. These introspective moods always hit him at the most unexpected and, usually, inconvenient times. But he never tried to shrug them off. Something mysterious was at play in his subconscious. Something important. He had to let it run its course.

As the copter descended into the parking bay, David once again found himself pondering the strange notion he'd had, of a maximum velocity of events. Crazy idea, wasn't it? And intriguing. Could such a limit exist? He'd have to do some more reading on quantum physics before the subconscious thought thread could form a lucid idea, but he really hoped it wasn't true. Because, the faster this night was over, the better.

He had absolutely no idea what he was going to say to Frill.

**2**

They made their way from the parking bay under a passageway of floating transparent rain shields, which automatically deployed when the weather demanded. Security was tighter than the first time he'd been here, and a few of the kids dressed like CJ's were turned away. The Security Mecha scanned David and Amanda quickly. They probably looked an odd couple; he. dressed so dismissive of fashion, and she, glittering in her usual _'I will rock your world'_ attire. But David was pretty sure the bot didn't care about their clothing. It was probably linked up to a network, using facial recognition to compare their features to a long list of known troublemakers.

After a moment it waved them on.

The deluge hadn't dampened the enthusiasm of the crowds, and kids were flocked around their usual tables, laughing and taunting under floating awnings. A few carried their own umbrellas. Others just seemed to be enjoying the rain, and let themselves get drenched. Instead of a concert, The Nexus One, (which David was surprised to see open so soon after the fiasco last week) was hosting a game industry convention. Rather than the rowdy rockers that would usually be hanging around the entrance, trying to find a way to sneak in, young adults in dark business suits mingled with costumed kids, dressed as the heroes or villains from their favorite games.

Lex, the guard Mecha, paced a few dozen feet behind as David and Amanda located the place where they were to meet Frill. It was off the main plaza, at the end of a quiet cul de sac. When they went inside, Lex waited on a bench beneath an awning, and pretending to read a magazine it had brought as prop.

The restaurant was unusually tame, for The Nexus. Stained wood décor. Framed landscapes on the wall. Acquiescent serving Mecha with calm, generic features. Booths with thick separation walls, so adults could engage in adult conversations, or just enjoy the Mozart piano concerto that was streaming softly into the room. It was the kind of eatery where parents and chaperones took refuge while the kids were at concerts or Games Zones, or gathered in the plaza, engaged in something their guardians might disapprove of.

"Are you sure this is the right place," David said to Amanda as they stood in the foyer.

"Yep," she replied. "This is where he said he'd be. If you'd taken his call you'd know that."

"I didn't want to mess anything else up," David said.

"Good thinking," Amanda said, "You'd probably propose by accident."

A greeting Mecha in dark suit approached, smiling softly.

"Good evening," it said, it said with a light bow "Table for two?" David noticed the simulant's faint British accent. That was a marketing decision. It created an air of sophistication. Funny the presumptive associations people made.

"We're meeting someone here," David explained, looking around the softly lit room.

"_He's_ meeting someone here," Amanda corrected. David turned a quizzical eye on her.

"I wouldn't want to interfere with your date," she said with a wink.

"It's not a _date_," David hissed.

"Oh? Well, it just looks like the kind of place for a date, so I figured-"

"Amanda!" David said. "It's – not - a – date!"

"Shhh," she replied. "Don't be a spectacle. People are trying to enjoy their dinner."

The serving Mecha stepped back, eying the teens with robotic patience while they settled their peculiar dispute.

"But seriously, this is guy stuff," Amanda said, cocking her eyebrow. "I'm going to hang with Jazzy and the girls in the plaza. You two have work this one out."

David was about to object when someone nearby made a hissing sound.

"Would it be safe to assume that is the party you're looking for?" the greeting Mecha said, gesturing to someone seated a few booths from the entrance.

It was Frill, waving and hissing '_psst-psst' _ though his teeth, eliciting annoyed glances from the adults at the next booth. He was dressed uncharacteristically somber; a dark dress coat over a black shirt and slacks. No facial enhancements except a solitary earring and the faint hint of lip gloss, neither of which was uncommon these days. And his ordinarily purple hair was now a dark shade of blue. No one would mistake him for one of the Shiny kids that flocked to the plaza every weekend.

"What's with him?" David whispered from the side of his mouth as he flashed Frill a welcoming smile.

"He's trying to impress you," Amanda replied, blowing her friend a kiss. "He thinks you're 'mature for your age'. It's all that polysyllabic gobbledygook you spew. I haven't told him about your Teddy bear and toy copter…. Yet."

"Gee, thanks," David sighed.

"Don't screw this up," Amanda whispered as she turned to leave.

**3**

"So, that will be the crème brûlée sauce, then?" the serving Mecha said.

Frill stared at the menu a moment longer, biting his lower lip in indecision. It was clear this was not his usual type of dining establishment.

The bruises from the fight last week, were almost gone already. All that was left was a barely noticeable dark splotch above the ridge of his nose. David finally realized that he was staring at Frill, and looked away.

"Yeah, that sounds alright," Frill said finally. The waiter took his menu and turned to David.

"Your Vegetable Platter will be ready much quicker, sir. Would you like it when it's done, or shall I bring both meals together?"

"No hurry," David replied. "Together is fine"

"I'll bring your drinks momentarily," the waiter said before he bowed courteously and walked off, leaving the boys in an awkward silence.

"So where's Mandy off to?" Frill said.

David sighed louder than he'd intended. "Girls," he said with an expansive shrug. "Who knows?"

Frill guffawed at this and David suddenly wondered if he'd said something else that might be misinterpreted. Time for a quick change of subject.

"You know how they used to make veal?" he said.

Frill thought for a moment. "It's cow meat, right?"

"Calf actually," David explained, adopting an unintentional professorial posture. "They'd take a young calf and shackle it, so it couldn't move, just lay there and eat til it got fat and soft. By the time it was ready for processing it couldn't even stand. Legs are too weak. Bones never developed properly so they usually broke. Then they would…"

David stopped abruptly when he noticed Frill sitting up straight, face aghast, a troubled crease on his brow.

"Why didn't you mention this _before _I ordered," Frill said, genuine alarm in his voice.

"No, no! They don't do that anymore," David explained quickly. "I don't think it's even legal. Veal is all produced in a lab now. I would have told you."

He was happy to see Frill's face finally relax.

"Good," the boy said, shaking his head. "Because that's just gross. And evil. I couldn't even…" he shuddered and made a retching sound. "Yeck."

They grew quiet as the waiter stopped by and placed their drinks on the table. David sipped in silence, watching Frill pick up his cup, drink and set it back on the table. Such peculiarly graceful movements for even so simple an act as drinking from a cup. He thought about what Amanda had said: 'sweet and soft as cotton candy'. Most people wouldn't have cared how their food was made. He shot Frill an apologetic glance.

"Sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to ruin your meal. Probably shouldn't have brought it up."

"Don't phase," Frill said." It's all good. I know you're that kind of guy."

David found his curiosity piqued. How did Frill see him? Usually he didn't really care about people's perceptions. They were always wrong. But…

"What kind of guy is that?" he said, toying with the condiments, pretending to not really care.

Frill shrugged and relaxed back in the booth.

"All mental," he said. "You're smart about things, but a bit clueless about people, so you don't always know when you're stepping out of line. You zone sometimes. Probably a lot. …. I mean, I don't know that for sure, I only met you once, but I'd bet you do. So you miss half of a conversation because you're obsessing on some little detail of something someone said, or did. And it just fascinates you like something shiny in a gutter across the street, so you have to leave in the middle of the conversation all the time, and that makes you say 'huh' a lot and sometimes people think you're stupid, but you're really not… you're just paying too much attention to the little stuff."

He paused there. "How am I doing so far?"

David opened his mouth to reply, but didn't know what to say. It was surprisingly accurate for only meeting once. He cleared his throat and hoped he wasn't blushing.

"Huh?" he replied finally.

Frill's laughter was a pleasant sound. David found himself laughing along. This was turning out easier than he'd expected.

"Ok. I'll take that as a confirmation, " Frill said. He was quiet a moment. His face grew serious, his manner pensive. He spoke slower now, rhythmic, something almost hypnotic in his voice.

"You're a loner. I can tell. Something probably happened that made you that way. I don't know what it was, but it's something you can't talk about… something people would never understand. Or at least you think they would never understand. And whatever it was, it's still affecting you… makes you keep people at a safe distance so you won't have to answer too many questions."

David shifted uncomfortably in his seat, hoping the waiter would show up with their dinner soon. This was suddenly bothering him in a way he didn't understand. He felt exposed. Naked. He wanted Frill to stop now. But didn't know how to ask.

"You don't even like what I'm saying right now," Frill continued. "but don't know how to tell me to stop."

This made David look up, shock on his face. Was this some type of trick? Frill smiled without looking at him.

"You probably think I looked all this up on the web or something, or used some weird profile grabber…. but you'd be wrong." Then he looked straight into David's eyes and for the first time David really saw him; saw the raw emotive force of the quiet boy with the cotton candy soul.

"The truth is, you're not really that different from someone else I know, Blue," Frill continued. "He was mental and abstract too. Not as smart as you are, nowhere near as deep, but just as distant. The difference is that you're ok with your solitude. You have… some purpose I guess, keeps you going. You're at peace with yourself. He isn't. He has secrets too, and won't share them with anyone either. But he never made peace with it. So he ran from clique to clique, always looking for where he belonged, never able to deal with the fact that none of us really 'belong' anywhere."

David pondered this.

"C'mon. You know it's true," Frill continued. "We're all really alone, in the end. We have to compromise, give up a little of ourselves to fit in. Or else we're always floating at the edge of the crowd. Like… being in limbo."

David was stunned by the unexpected insight. He nodded in silent agreement.

"But he never wanted to give anything," Frill continued, "always wanted to take and take and take. And the more obvious it became that he was alone, the louder and angrier he got. Until one day he was just …" Frill looked down and shrugged. "He was just somebody else. He changed completely… became someone as loud and angry as whatever secret burned him."

"Myron," David said. Frill smiled and nodded.

"That's why you're here, isn't it?" he said.

"Amanda explained?" David said.

Frill laughed.

"Mandy? She would just as soon secretly record our conversation and play it back for a laugh," he said.

"She's not that mean," David said, defensively.

"No," Frill said. "She's not cruel. But she's still a little girl" He pointed to his head. "I mean up here."

David struggled with this. But after a moment he sighed a concession. There was truth in the words.

"I know something else about you," Frill said. David wasn't sure he wanted to hear any more, but Frill spoke before he could object. "You're kind," Frill said. "You don't want to hurt anybody, and that's why you can't figure out how to tell me that… that you aren't really here to see me."

David looked down, embarrassed by the emotion of the subject. Frill chuckled.

"It's ok," he said. "I'm a big boy. At least now I won't have to lie to Zee about anything."

"Don't phase, eh?" David said, trying to not show how relieved he was.

"Yeah, don't phase," Frill laughed. "You're after Myron, aren't you? You wanted to talk with me because we used to go together."

"I couldn't say it over the phone," David explained apologetically. "Ever since the snoopers were caught, security has been really tight and I … I need to do this myself."

"He was my first, you know," Frill said, crossing his arms and leaning on the table, gazing off at a memory. "Used to drive me crazy keeping up with his damned moods."

David was quiet until Frill's dark nostalgia passed.

"What's this about?" Frill said at last. "I hope it's not revenge. And not because I care about that crazy Crash Jamming assbite anymore, but because something so petty would really be beneath you."

"Not revenge," David said. "I already got pay back last week. Remember?" They shared a quick laugh at that before David continued. "The whole fight was a ruse, just to plant the spiders. I know Myron was part of the scam. I need to find out where those snoops came from. It's a long story and I can't share most of it. But I think I might know whose behind this thing, and… well, it's important."

Frill thought for a moment. He ran a finger across his smooth forehead, swiping his long blue hair from his face.. Then he smiled mischievously.

"Ok," he said. "I tell you anything you want. But first you must tell me something… about me."

"Huh?" David said. Frill scolded him with a playful frown..

"Ok," David said in surrender "I'm not as good at this as you obviously are, but here we go." He thought a moment. "You're very insightful. And… smarter than you let on."

Frill rolled his eyes. "Boooring!"

"Okok, hold on," David said. "You… uh." David forgot himself for a moment. He'd learned how to read people long ago, when he was with Sy's gang. Perhaps his senses had been dulled by so many years of isolation, nothing but Mecha and rusty old scavengers for friends. Or perhaps this was a much more complicated game than simply spotting marks.

"Quitting already?" Frill teased.

"Not quite," David responded, rising to the challenge. "You … like to read, but rarely finish a book. Computer games bore you, even holo-decks, because no matter how good they are, you know it's not real. You learn quickly but hate to study, so you know a little bit about a lot but everything about nothing." David paused there. "How am I doing?"

Frill raised his eyebrows. "Wrong on the holo-decks but, by all means, continue."

"Ok," David smiled. "You like being in crowds… but mostly because you can disappear in the noise and the madness. They're almost like a disguise you wear… because even though you can play rough when you have to, inside you're gentle… as soft as cotton candy… and you know that makes you vulnerable."

Frill shrugged this off. "Not bad," he said.

"Not finished", David responded. "You're lying about Myron, I can tell. You're not being honest about the way you feel. When he started Crash Jamming, it broke your heart. You felt betrayed, because … because you really loved him … and you still do. Thinking about what he's become makes you sad. So you pretend you don't care."

This one made Frill grow quiet, look away. David was thinking he may have gone too far when the boy started chuckling to himself.

"What?" David said. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"Well, it's not that I loved him so much," Frill replied, "It's just that in spite of appearances, he's a really, really excellent kisser. A wild man where it counts, you know what I mean?" The blue haired boy punctuated this admission with a wink.

"Oh," David said, unsure how to respond. "I… uh… I mean. I guess that's… Oh, where's our waiter?"

"You know, you're really cute when you blush." Frill said.

Fortunately the waiter showed up then, with two steaming plates in tow. Not a moment too soon.

"Now," David said as their plates were set on the table. "Will you tell me how to find Myron?"

Frill poked a fork in his lab generated Veal, and studied it curiously.

"I'll do better than that," he said.

**4**

"So?" Amanda said as The Nexus slowly receded behind them.

David didn't respond at first. He peered out the window as the city lights below gave way to the dark stretch of ocean. The rain had finally let up a bit, and small pockets of stars were peeking through the cloud cover ahead.

"So what?" David said at last.

"How'd things go? Did you two work out your … issues?"

"Did you ever wonder if time has a maximum speed?" David said.

"What?"

"Time," David replied. "According to Einstein, should you surpass the speed of light, you would begin to witness time slowing and stopping, and then even see past events because you are now traveling faster than the photons that carry the information we use as sight. Now this is all impossible, of course, but it made me wonder if time and light are somehow the same phenomenon. Is the speed of light also the speed of time?"

"David!" Amanda blurted, causing Lex to look back from the front of the copter. "Stay with me for a moment, ok? What happened with Frill?" she said, exasperated.

"Oh yeah. Frill," David said. "We worked things out."

"Aaaand?"

"Don't phase, girl!" David snapped, in his best imitation of a Shiney, waving his hand as if to shoo her off.

"You don't wear that very well," Amanda said. David conceded with a laugh.

"Let's just say, you're going to be helping me do some shopping this week," he said. "I'll need something dark and leathery; full of unbridled machismo, sexual insecurity and teenage angst."

Amanda crossed her arms, glaring at him. He let her steam a bit before he explained.

"I'll be going Crash Jamming with Frill next week," he said at last. "I'll need to look the part."

_(cont...)_


	33. Chapter 33

_Ends on a cliff hanger. Don't worry. Next chap is already in progress. :-)**  
**_

**Alive**

**Book 2**

**Pt10**

**1**

Frill slowed the cruiser and pulled into a grassy field that was serving as an improvised parking lot. He came to stop amid a host of older cars; rollers, refurbished antiques; rare and time-worn domestic models. Many had been painted with symbols of the CJ subculture and names of their favorite bands. The few newer cruisers were shiny and unmarked, obviously borrowed from parents who didn't know where their child was taking it.

The engine whirred to a stop and the boys sat quietly for a time, listening to the distant buzz of Crash music wrestle with the unceasing chatter of crickets in the placid night.

"Well, here we are," Frill said in a somber tone.

David shifted uneasily in his new disguise, the black clothing he'd purchased to fit in here. It was comfortable, but he was worried if he really looked the part. Frill had dressed for their mission too. He really didn't look that much different than usual. Darker clothing. Bigger boots. But noting 'shiny'. No makeup. No multi-colored hair dye. No lip gloss. He could play the part more than look it and, as David would find, looks weren't as important here as he'd assumed.

Frill turned and set knowing eyes on David. His expression suggested he would understand if there had been a sudden change of heart. David pretended not to notice the implied offer as he gazed at the large industrial building that lay beyond the barbed wire fence.

Chaos blared from the doorways; the guttural voices of angry crash poets screaming their indignation. Against the windows flashed the silhouettes of kids jumping up and down and crashing into one another.

A sudden rush of second thoughts plagued David's mind. It wasn't really fear, he told himself. He'd survived worse situations unscathed. It's just that he was beginning to wonder if this was really the best course of action…. and maybe there was a little fear, he admitted to himself. Maybe more than a little if he was to be completely honest.

He'd seen what these kids were capable of with Mecha. Could that anger be unleashed on humans?

This wasn't the first time he'd experienced doubts about his plans to infiltrate the violent world of the Crash Jammers.

**2**

David understood the angles and dangers of his plan, and did his best to prepare. But there were only so many events one could anticipate, only so many _'known knows'_. He'd spent days cruising the Crash Jam sites, watching the videos of their attacks on defenseless Mecha, the pod captures they'd proudly made of themselves being arrested for the destruction of private property. Because that's all the robots were to humans. Property.

The heat of forgotten resentments flared in David's heart as he watched the uploads. City service bots, tending to damaged street lamps or power lines, caught and beaten to shards at the outskirts of town. Defenseless servants who'd been shopping for their owners, caught in parking lots by screaming CJ boys, and pummeled with bats and iron pipes.

It all seemed so senseless. Maniacal. Even the psychopath Johnson Johnson had had some logic to his actions. If only to put on a show. But this? This was just violence for the sake of violence. The end result of decades of scapegoating.

David did his breathing exercise and managed to quell his rising anger. This was work, he told himself. He was just studying. Best to not get emotionally involved. Not yet, anyway.

He then spent some time browsing the acidic comments they left around the net; and following the live feeds and blogs where they pushed their revolutionary rhetoric. It was the next generation of Johnson Johnson's spiel.

_They're replacing us. They're leaving us behind. It's time to fight back._

David understood that there was a true foundation for this anger. Mecha had become the new labor force in duties once performed by humans. As global corporations came to dominate smaller markets and replace their workers with cost saving robots, poverty had increased. But the robots weren't at fault! Why attack them when your real enemy was human greed.

The Crash community seemed an odd mix of people; ones which might have not have been allied at other times in history. But then again, they had a common enemy, at least in their minds. They didn't define themselves by race or gender, religion or the lack of. Even sexual persuasion was unimportant among these violent boys and girls. The only thing that mattered was hatred for Mecha. They did their best to reject the technology of the new world, like some twisted militant version of the Amish.

Not surprisingly, many of the sites were tributes to the late Lord Johnson Johnson, who had disappeared many years ago and had since been elevated to the status of a cult hero. David found Flesh Fair reunion sites, run by people who'd worked with Johnson. They shared their fond memories of his tutelage and his '_passion for humanity_' as they called it. David couldn't help but laugh at that. These sites tended to have membership fees, and he understood it was just ex-employees trying to cash in on the man's post-mortem popularity.

And there was no lack of conspiracy sites, claiming that Johnson had been the victim of a government assassination plot. Some suggested that the scheme went all the way to the top, and even accused the President of being involved. It was an absurd assertion, and not supported with any factual data, but had garnered so much popularity by the end of The President's first term, it had almost cost her re-election.

The Crash Jam culture had sprung up in the past few years. They hadn't even been around when Johnson was at the peak of his popularity. People, especially the young, tended to glamorize public figures they knew little about. If they'd seen Johnson in his last days, they might not have such a high opinion of the man. David alone knew how far their hero had fallen; how obsession and megalomania had reduced him to a madman. But it was a secret that he would probably hold for the rest of his time.

The CJ's also had their own peculiar slang. David scanned urban dictionaries to understand the words they'd used: _kife, slag, klunk, pwerk, fibe, chort_… It was a harsh contrived, tongue. The words were short and sharp, and didn't seem to be derived from any common dialect. He practiced using them in his dialog, but he knew he could not really pretend to be one of them.

So he'd play the newbie. The wannabe. Let Frill, who knew the scene better, do all the talking.

He had grown tired of studying and was about to start searching out suitable attire for his adventure, when he chanced upon something that caught his attention. It was a just another webpage, or so it seemed at first. It didn't come up under any searches, had no tags or reference terms, nor did it lead to any other page. He'd chanced upon it quite by accident when he noticed a peculiar symbol in the corner of a page full of links. It resembled the letter Y set inside a circle, like the symbol for the cruiser manufacturer Mercedes-Benz. But that company had dissolved years ago. Each section of the circle was a different color, red to the left, blue to the right and and amber at the top.

What was this about? Curiosity made him click on it.

He immediately saw that this was a bit different than the others pages. It didn't seem to be finished. It bore no text, no links, no intro music, which was typical of the sites. It was just a single image over backdrop of deep crimson, which warbled and flowed like… blood? Yes. It seemed like blood. And in front of this cascading red river stood a man.

He was cloaked from his head to the tip of his spiked boots in a thick coat, which appeared to be made of some furry animal hide. And dangling from the neck of his coat there was a necklace bearing that same symbol that had led to the page.

The man's face was obscured by the lapels of the coat, which were upturned like a character from an old Noir style film. And he wore an old style top-hat on his head, the brim of which cast his features in shadow. All that was visible of him was a single red eye, which gazed accusingly from the monitor; and one arm, his left arm, which was upturned and trust forward from the sleeve of the coat, so that the viewer could see the tattoo.

No. It was no tattoo. Upon closer inspection David saw that the mark was burnt into the man's arm. The branding had left deep scars in the flesh, which looked as if they'd never healed. The mark was a single word:

_JA_

"Ja?" said David. He hadn't seen that word on any of the CJ sites.

Intrigued, he searched the Wiktionary for the term. There was a time when he would have been able to just open a link in his head. But he was Orga now. He'd have to leave the computer work to the computers.

Ja? Well, it was either German for 'yes' or Slavic for 'one'. David doubted that, but would remember those definitions for later reference

It was a unit of measure in Korean. Probably not the meaning he wanted.

It was first name of a long deceased rapper. Nope. This was no fan page.

An abbreviation for Japan or Jamaica? He didn't see how that fit.

The Rastafarians had used the word Jah, for their religious deity. But that had an H, and David could see no connection. This menacing figure did not look like a Rastafarian anyway. There weren't very many left since their Island nation was mostly submerged..

David tried to find a way into the site, but there seemed to be none. Finally he took a chance and clicked on the single red eye.

A prompt suddenly opened. It was asking for a password. Well, someone had something to hide, it seemed. He had tried a few random CJ phrases, when his firewall suddenly alerted him. It had just stopped a bug. A nasty one too. But he'd figured this would happen. The site obviously didn't like uninvited strangers trying to enter, and was telling him to shove off.

Maybe a sub-net browser would work? David opened the page with his Cyber Sleuth software, but even this gave him nothing. This wasn't the work of amateur kids. Whoever put this page together knew what they were doing.

Oh well. It was time to move on. If he kept this up Security might pay him a visit. He could imagine their confusion that the son of Alan Hobby was visiting sites run by Mecha bashers.

He'd given Amanda a call then, and had her help him pick out a good costume for his trip. She'd been inquisitive and peppered him with questions, but he told her he would explain all later. They eventually found something that appeared suitably menacing and would not make him seem like too much a poser. He'd ordered it, and had it delivered to Frill's house.

When he clicked 'send' he knew there was no turning back. That was when the worry set in; the sense that he was walking into something that was beyond him.

Was it simply ego that drove him on? He couldn't be sure. But if it was, then this must be the appropriate purpose that ego served in the human mind. It could keep you going when everything else told you to stop. But that could have good or disastrous consequences.

His only reprieve from doubt had come the following Wednesday, while he'd been training with Ariel. He never worried about anything when he flew.

**3**

The water had been unusually clear that day. So clear that, as David cruised slowly over Manhattan, he could make out the sunken streets below, a ghost framework of intersecting lines beneath the blue of the water. A few miles out from the city floated the buoys that had been placed to protect the site of his rebirth. His old friends, Skipper and Eddie had initiated a legal complaint, but the Government was routinely slow at addressing these matters. And going up against Dad's firewall of lawyers wasn't going to be easy. In the end, even if they managed to get the area cleared for salvage again, Dad could just buy it.

They'd be angry. He'd have to make it up to them. But he had more important things on his mind now.

He triggered the thrusters and the Stratocuiser shot forward. The pull of g-force against his body was a thrill he was sure he'd never get tired of.

The Sunken Lady's torch grew quickly in the forward monitor. Nesting birds scattered from their stone sanctuary as David raced by, banked hard, and headed back for the city. The torch receded just as quickly in the rearview monitor as he pushed his Stratocruiser into a steep climb; thrusters wailing as he shot up to 3000 ft and zipped high over the drowned buildings.

David repressed an ecstatic hoot and tried not to show how much he was enjoying himself. Ariel always scolded him when he was having too much fun.

"Okok, Ariel said. "Don't get carried away. You're in a commercial traffic zone. Take us down a few hundred feet."

"I got this," David said as he descended. Ariel shot him a sideways glance.

"Got this?" his Mecha tutor repeated. David shrugged.

"Euphemism," he explained. "It means I have control."

"I know what you meant," Ariel said. "It just seems like your language has become-"

The Mecha's complaint was cut short by his cry of surprise.

"_Whoa_!" Ariel bellowed as the buildings far below flashed over their heads. David came out of the sudden roll, laughing as he righted the craft. But Ariel was not so amused.

"I should fail you for that," Ariel said, casting a programmed look of disapproval at David. The boy tried to stop laughing, but couldn't help himself.

"The look on your face," he managed to say in between bouts of laughter. "That was worth it."

"That was the look of a failing grade," Ariel replied coolly. David finally managed to get control of himself but couldn't repress his smile.

"Oh, c'mon," he said. "You're just mad because I surprised you."

"Angry' is the word you're looking for, David," Ariel replied. "Mad means crazy. And as you well know, I am capable of neither anger nor insanity.. What I am capable of however, is moving your solo jump back another month."

David thought of a few snappy comebacks, all having to do with anger and madness, but Ariel put his hand up for silence. The Mecha looked away as if it was listening to something. Probably got a call, David thought.

"We have to head in now," Ariel said finally. "Your father is waiting."

David decided to save his snappy responses for a time when not so much was at stake. He cut the thrusters and banked slowly westward, headed for home.

"Wouldn't failing me be a bit of an over-reaction on your part," David said. "Methinks you're getting a tad emotional about this."

"I don't get angry, David. I get even." Ariel quipped, knowing he had the upper hand.

"Are you capable of humor, at least?" David sighed, slowing over the Cybertronics building. Ariel clucked his tongue as the boy began to descend. An oddly human thing to do, David thought.

"Let's see how well you handle landing in the copter bay," The Mecha said "and maybe I'll let the roll slide."

"Let the roll slide?" David repeated, skeptically.

"That means to give you a pass… for now," Ariel said.

"I know what it means," David said. "It's just that…" He scrutinized the Mecha's face and thought he saw the slightest hint of humor in its eyes.

"Oh, I get it," David said. "Dad's been messing around in your head again, eh?"

"I'm sure don't know what you mean," Ariel said, looking away.

"Yeah, you do," David laughed. "He's giving you a little personality, eh? Slowly removing the virtual rod you have stuck up your-"

"Mind your landing," Ariel scolded.

**4**

"Finally," Allan Hobby said, closing his laptop and rising from a chair as David strolled casually into the landing bay lobby. "I almost fired up one of the backup pilots."

David noticed the man was dressed as if he was going to something important.

"Sorry," he said. "Headed out?"

"Just some last minute business to attend inland," Hobby said, adjusting his tie in the reflection in the dark glass of the door.

"What's wrong with the conference link?" David asked.

Hobby didn't reply, just slid his laptop into his briefcase and made sure his things were in order. David considered the man's silence and knew he was hiding something. Probably something to do with the security breach, something he didn't want to discuss over cyber-space. Or maybe he just wanted to get out of the building for a while.

Ariel stepped into the room and set a scolding eye on David. David returned the look with a mock sneer. But the Mecha had apparently decided his 'snitching' could wait.

"Ready, sir." Ariel said to Hobby.

"Whatever he tells you is a lie," David said.

Hobby laughed as he snatched his case from the table and started for the Cybertronics copter with Ariel fast on his heels.

"Causing trouble again, is he?" Hobby said to his pilot.

"Of the most juvenile sort, sir" Ariel replied.

"Dad," David called. Hobby stopped and looked over his shoulder. David put on the boyish smile that he always used when he was going to ask for something. Hobby was familiar enough with the look. He signaled for Ariel to go ahead, then turned and crossed his arms in preparation for the inevitable request.

"What now?" he said.

"Why the Yeats?"

Hobby looked confused.

"The poem," David said, gesturing over his shoulder. "The Stolen Child. It's carved in the door."

"Oh, yes" Hobby said. "What about it?"

"Why did you use that one?"

Hobby made a dismissive shrug. "It was part of an early marketing campaign," he said. "It had some attractive subtext, I guess. But we didn't wind up using it. Why?"

"Do you know its meaning?"

"This is not the time for deconstructing 19th century poetry. I've got to be somewhere. What is it you want?"

"Well, I think I'm ready for the waters and wild by now, don't you?"

Hobby pondered the cryptic words for a moment, but couldn't decipher them.

"Out with it," he said. "You're making me late."

"I mean, I believe I've shown that I can take care of myself by now. Do you really think I need Lex tagging along everywhere I go?"

Hobby thought for a moment.

"Well, the poem does suggest you should come to the waters and wild 'with a fairy hand in hand', doesn't it?"

"Are you calling Lex a fairy?" David replied.

His Father's laughed and started backing towards the copter.

"Touche', but you do need protection, David" he said. "Recent events support that conclusion. And this is not the time for this discussion either." The man turned and boarded the copter before his 'son' could find a more effective avenue of negotiation.

David sighed as the copter lifted off the floor. He had intended to ask later that night, but hadn't known his father would be going somewhere. Bad timing. If his mission was going to work, he'd have to rid himself of the bodyguard, for a least a couple hours. There was no way Lex would let him enter a club full of wild CJ kids.

He noticed his father waving from the passenger window and plastered on his best _'I'll be a good boy'_ face as he waved back. He didn't want the man to think he was up to something… because he was definitely up to something.

It was time for Plan B.

**5**

"You called, Sir?" Alfred said. The butler bot was standing in David's doorway, apron around its waist, a programmed look of patient curiosity on its face.

"Sorry to disturb your chores, old buddy," David said, rising from his console, where he'd been busily snooping for the last hour. "But I was wondering if you might know anything about umm." He glanced at the words on his monitor. "Crystal Eyes 7, 20 dash 47?"

Alfred didn't respond for a moment, and David felt a surge of hope. Would it really be that easy?

No, it turned out. It wasn't going to be that easy. Alfred finally shook its head and donned a apologetic expression.

"That is not familiar, sir."

"Crystal Eyes seven, twenty dash forty seven?" David repeated the words slower; on the off chance that Alfred's language interpreters were mashing the two key words into a singular 'crystallize'. But Alfred had understood completely and repeated that he had no idea what David was talking about.

"Sorry," David said, "I meant to say Merovac's Quandary, 19 dash 88 dash 1?"

Once again the butler disappointed him by shaking its head. David apologized and checked his list. He tried again, and again, running though each the override phrases he'd managed to snoop over the last few days, repeating the words slowly when Alfred hesitated for the slightest moment. He was watching carefully for that tell tale blank-faced moment which would indicate he had initiated a command prompt;

"Blue Odyssey 20-01-7".

Nothing.

"Watson Anomaly 12-14-66"

Nope.

"Destiny Manifest, 14-92-08?"

Dead end.

"Is this all leading somewhere, sir?" Alfred inquired at last.

David sighed.

"Ah, never mind," he said waving the butler off. "Go on and …do whatever you were doing."

Alfred returned to the study and resumed its chores. David leaned heavily against his door frame, watching the Mecha go through its cleaning routines. Dusting this. Wiping that. Straightening those. He pushed his hands into his pockets and began to pace, feeling a dark pang of failure in his chest.

Plan B was not going as smoothly as he'd hoped.

Of course Plan A, which had simply consisted of asking his father to leave Lex at home for a change, was not that swift now that he thought about it; and had probably been doomed from the start, even if not for the intervention of fate. But he had thought his backup plan was rather clever, if he had to say so himself… and since no one else even knew about it, he did have to say so himself.

He'd realized that there was a glitch in Cybertronics security. One that only he, being the heir to Alan Hobby, could probably exploit. But he needed a piece of information that he, now being Orga, had no access to… at least not by any legitimate channels. There was a hierarchy of command overrides for all the in-house Mecha, from the chefs assistants to the lab bots. Even the Personal Protection units, like Lex, could be put into temporary command mode. And that was the code he needed.

But he sure couldn't get it by asking. Not without giving himself away. So he'd have to get it without anyone knowing what he'd done.

There was the rub.

Alfred would have been perfect for his ruse. But David couldn't find the code to break into him. He could have asked Dad, but once again, just asking wold have given him away. The codes for the Maintenance crew would be the easiest to find by snooping the system, but they automatically reported any vocal interfacing to security, especially the kind that required them to breach security, which was exactly what David had in mind. So they were out. Teddy, once his closest ally and even a co-conspirator in his escape from captivity, was now untrustworthy, its credibility in tatters after serving as a little spy for Dad for so long. He'd even considered Amanda's tutor, that stoic, matronly 'Shiela' bot he'd seen in her room. But even if Amanda did know her override, the bot was a recent addition and was unlikely to have access to the information he desired.

Perhaps the true irony was that if he still had his digital brain this would be easy. But then, if that were the case, he wouldn't even be here. He still be a little clueless …

David bolted up straight. Could that be it? He stepped back to his room, pinching his chin and mumbling to himself as he considered the obstacles. Of course! It could work. It really could.

Spirits renewed, he left the room, hoping Mario wasn't doing any after hours programming. He needed some alone time with a certain prototype in the lab.

**6**

The little 500 woke abruptly, ready for practice.

"Hey, Coach!" it said, cheerfully, looking around for the bat and glove.

David knew the override code for this one.. He had created it himself. It was a shortcut to save time for quick adjustments; a simple two-word command, the first segment of a string of seven words he remembered very well.

"Cirrus," David said. The bot ceased its programmed jabber, and stared at him with expectant eyes.

"Socrates" David said. The bot went into command mode. It would only stay that way for ten seconds unless an inquiry was made.

"What is your model and maker," David inquired. He already knew the answer, but the inquiry would bring up in internal command prompt, like pointing a cursor over a line of code to edit.

"David 500 series." the bot replied in a monotone, "Patented to Cybertronics, all right reserved."

"True," David said. "What is your function?" .

"Child simulant. Series 500 Prototype in production."

David smiled. This was going to work after all.

"False," he said. Then he made some temporary adjustments.

**7**

It had been twenty minutes.

What was taking so long?

David picked up his lute and began plucking absentmindedly as he paced the room. Worry was beginning to creep through the holes in his ingenious plan. Had he overlooked something? What if security had changed identification procedure? It had been a while since he had been down there. Did they still use their scanners for-

His pod buzzed. David actually jumped at the sound. He took a deep breath before picked it up. He didn't want to appear to be in a hurry.

"Yeah," he said.

""This is security," a voice said. He remembered the guard well. It was the man he'd fooled on his return five years earlier. He wasn't the brightest bulb.

"Hi," David said. "Something wrong?"

"We've got a stray down here," the man said. "Claims to belong to you."

"Oh," David said, trying to sound surprised. "Just send it back up. It should know the way."

"Well, that's the problem, " the guard said. "It won't leave. Just says 'where's David?" over and over. Can you come down here and retrieve it?"

"Look, I'm…" he paused a moment; sighed heavily, trying to imply he was in the middle of something. "Can't you just use an override? That should shut down whatever routine its running. Then you can give it commands."

"I don't know the override for the lab units, sir," the guard said, a hint of impatience in his voice. "It looks like a new thing. Dressed in a baseball uniform."

"Oh yeah, that one," David said, feigning ignorance. "Well, don't you have a list of overrides in your system? Hit it with a scanner. That should find a prompt."

The man was quiet a moment.

"If that doesn't work, I'll come down and get it," David said, crossing his fingers. Then he heard the guard sigh heavily. It was a sigh of surrender.

"Hold on," the man said.

David didn't subscribe to any religious beliefs, but something like a prayer crossed his mind as he waited. The guard finally came back.

"Weird," he said.

"Is something wrong?" David said, trying to hide his tension.

"Nah, we found the override. It's headed back up" the man said. "What's weird is that the damned thing was identifying as a personal protection unit. How'd that happen?"

David hummed thoughtfully; glad the guard couldn't see his expression of delight.

"Dunno," he said. "But thanks. I'll have to take a look at it."

It was an act of sheer discipline to not jump for joy when the line went dead.

When his little spy returned, David ushered it into the room and quickly closed the door.

"Well now, let's see what you have for me," he said with a mischievous grin.

**8**

Friday came and David decided to finally tell Amanda about the details of his mission. They'd been having breakfast and she'd been going on about her plans for the weekend, showing atypical diplomacy by not asking what he and Frill intended. David leaned in conspiratorially and confided what he'd accomplished with the 500, and what he intended to do while she was hanging out in the plaza. Her reaction was pretty much as he'd expected.

"You're crazy," she said.

"It'll work," David responded with a lot more confidence than he felt.

"And what if it does, " she replied. "So you get past Lex, get inside the club. Let's say you even find Myron. What then?"

David shrugged, as if the rest was obvious.

It wasn't obvious.

"Those kids are dangerous, David," she said, her features shifting to a look of concern. "This is not a game."

David knew that well enough. Better than she could imagine.

"You're right, it isn't," he agreed. "But you play it like a game. And you play to win"

Neither said any more about it.

**8**

Saturday night finally arrived. He'd met up with Frill at the Nexus. The usual crowd was hanging at their usual spot, all except Zee whose parents still had him under house arrest. It was an understandable reaction. He was, after all, their only child. They were all only children. David was surprised more of their parents were not as stern as Zee's.

He had been obliged to endure the standard effusive adoration from Jazzy, who gushed over his new look.

"Oh, now this is even better," the girl said, cuddling up to David while the others laughed. "You make the nerd thing look sexy." Amanda finally complained to Shooter. But he only waved the issue away, seemingly happy for a reprieve from his girlfriend's antics.

"We got to go," Frill said at last. And just in time, for the questions were starting to arise; all the ones David was supposed to avoid. Who he really was… what his father did… was that quiet man sitting nearby really his personal bodyguard?

Frill started heading for the bay where his cruiser was parked. David followed, blowing Amanda a parting kiss and waving goodbye to all the Shiny kids who watched mystified as the two departed without explanation. A few of them snickered and cocked knowing eyebrows at the pair.

David knew what they were thinking. He didn't care.

After a moment, Lex rose from the bench where he was pretending to read, and followed.

**10**

Frill lived with his parents in a quiet suburban community about a 20 minutes from the Nexus. During the ride, David found himself being fascinated by the street life. The lights. The storefronts. The restless tides of Orga going about their distracted Saturday night pleasure seeking. The obedient Mecha going about their servile duties. It had been a long time since he had roamed freely, and in those days he'd not been in the mood for sight seeing. Even more recently, when he'd come Inland with Skipper and Eddie on his excursions to see his Mother, they'd been on a tight now he felt relaxed. Calm even.

A thought came to him. He turned down the music streaming from the cruisers link up. Frill looked over at him, annoyed.

"How dare you turn down my music," he said. "Never turn down a man's music." He was only partially kidding.

"You ever heard of 'Ja'?" David said.

Frill considered the word as he they raced through the streets

"No," he said at last. "Can't say I've heard of that before. What is it?"

"I don't know," David said, relaxing back into his seat. "That's why I asked you."

Frill shrugged and turned down a dark street of older houses lined up like boxes in a warehouse. The remains of 21st century suburbia.

"You ready for tonight?" he said.

"Oh, yeah," David said. "I'm good." And he did feel good. Or perhaps he was just numb to the potential of what could go wrong, seeing as it was too late to turn back.

Frill glanced over his shoulder and turned back to David.

"And what about.. uh…." he nodded his head towards the back seat where Lex was sitting quietly, looking menacing and suspicious. The Mecha only knew they were going to his friends house. This much would be safe for his father to find out about. But no information on their final destination had been imparted.

"Don't worry about him," David said with a wink.

The house was dark when they arrived. His parents were probably at work, Frill said. David scanned the quiet street as he got out the cruiser. It wasn't the best neighborhood, nothing like the Swinton's upscale estate. But neither was it the worst. Struggling professionals might live here. People who made decent money, but only worked intermittently.

This was confirmed when Frill explained that his parents made their living in theater… for the most part. It was a hard business and they often had to take odd jobs to get by. Neither had a regular schedule, and both had been struggling since he was a child. His mother was a make-up artist and, at least for now, worked for a local news affiliate. His father was an actor, occasionally, but worked mostly in set design and production. But there hadn't been much for him lately.

"I'm home," Frill called as they entered the dark house. David was confused by this announcement, assuming the house was empty since all the lights were off. Then he heard soft music, and a voice coming from the darkened living room. A man was there, pacing to and fro and … talking to himself?

No, no, David realized. He was reciting something.

_The King doth keep his revels here to-night;_

_Take heed the Queen come not within his sight;_

_For Oberon is passing fell and wrath,_

_Because that she as her attendant hath_

_A lovely boy, stolen from an Indian king._

_She never had so sweet a changeling;_

_And jealous Oberon would have the child_

_Knight of his train, to trace the forests wild;_

"Dad?" Frill said in a somewhat annoyed tone, interrupting the man's monologue. Seeming to come out of a trance, Mr Lobov finally noticed his son's arrival.

"Ah, Franklin," he said smiling and approaching the boys. In the light coming in through the door, David could he see was a plain looking fellow, clad in a bathrobe and slippers. Thick glasses adorned his face, which was topped by a thinning head of graying hair. He shot David an appraising look.

"This is my friend, Blue," Frill said. The man reached out and shook David's hand.

"Blue," he said thoughtfully. "And from whence was this nic derived? Is that Memphis Blue, as in the melancholy pentatonic melodies of 20th century African Americans? Or blue like the ocean? Deep and full of primordial mysteries?"

Frill sighed as if he was embarrassed by the question. But David was only amused and wondered at his friend's discomfort.

"More like blue for a suit I wore once," he said. Mr Lebov raised a curious eyebrow but decided to not pursue the inquiry any further.

"Twelfth Night?" David said.

It took Mr Lobov a moment to understand.

"Ah, you refer to my nocturnal ramblings," he said. "Close, but not quite."

"Midsummer's Night Dream!" David corrected himself quickly. "Puck, right?"

"Hazzah!" the man said with a laugh. "Thou speakest aright, I quoeth that merry wanderer of the night. So, a fan of the Bard, are you?

"Not an aficionado," David said, "But I like to read him aloud too."

"Ah. Well then, I've a small group of amateur enthusiasts that meets occasionally to read. You should drop by some night when you've nothing else to do," Mr Lebov said. "I am afraid my son, having grown up with two failed aspirants of the thespian trade, is not so enamored of the field. Familiarity breeds contempt, as the saying goes."

"We have to leave," Frill said, impatiently.

David found the man entertaining and wondered why Frill seemed embarrassed. But he sensed tension between the two and decided not to inquire.

"And where would you two young men be headed this fine evening?" Mr Lebov said. Then he noticed Lex standing just outside the doorway and stepped back. He turned a look on his son that suggested this would require a more detailed explanation.

"Oh, he's with me," David explained quickly. "He's… uh 'it's my fathers. I have to take him with me… for protection." He realized he should have prepared for this introduction. But Frill's father accepted this easily. Lex was obviously not the first bodyguard he'd seen in his line of work. He may not have achieved success, but he had probably worked with people who did.

"Hello, Lex," Mr Lebov said. David was surprised that the man addressed the Mecha respectfully, like it was Orga.. Most people would simply ignore the guard. He warmed a bit more. to Friil's strange father.

"Good evening, sir," Lex replied.

"My, don't you look expensive, " Mr Lebov said, stepping back and scrutinizing Lex curiously. He turned a new gaze on David, but had the grace not to ask the questions that were apparent in his eyes.

"Well, then. I'll assume he's safe, eh?" he said.

David nodded.

"We're just changing," Frill said as he started up the stairs. "Then we're going clubbing for a while."

"Then trip away; make no stay, and try to be home before the break of day!" Mr Lebov quipped as he headed back to the living room.

Frill rolled his eyes. David thought it was pretty clever. He gestured for Lex to wait on he porch, and started up the stairs behind his new friend.

**11**

Frill's room was a converted attic. Polished wood walls that came to a point 12 feet overhead. Clothes, books and dvds were strewn about in haphazard order. Frill wasn't dirty. Just not very organized. The walls were lined with posters from TV shows and films and a few androgynous looking celebrities posed seductively in various states of dress.

It was a little cramped, but comfortable.

"Hope they got your size right," Frill said as he pulled a box from a shelf and handed it to David. He then began typing at his console, which sat near a window looking out on the street.

David unwrapped the clothes he had ordered. They were a specialty line, black and beaten leather, thin strips of dulled steel lined the collar. Shoulder pads were metal reinforced, as were the shins. The clothing was designed to cater to a young rebellious sub-culture. They were fresh off the shelf but made to look like they had been worn for a long time. And they could take a beating. They had to.

"Found him!" Frill said excitedly.

"Who?" David said.

"Myron," Frill said, "he's leaving messages to his friends on a CJ site." Frill pulled away from his monitor and gestured to small avatar next to a comment. The avatar was a Viking, blonde and armored, swinging a great sword in the midst of a fiery battle. But there was no name.

"How do you know it's him?" David asked.

"I know that avatar," Frill said. "It's him."

David leaned down to read the print.

"_Jamming 101. Slagged. Kife the pwerk!"_

David shrugged. He had no idea what the words meant.

"It means he'll be at Club 101 tonight. He's tired from eating jail food. And screw the police."

"Ahh," David said, glad Frill was here to interpret. "Club 101?"

"It's CJ club on the outskirts," Frill said. "Not that far. Gets pretty crazy but we should be ok."

David held his clothes up to his chest and stepped back for Frill's appraisal.

"Think it'll pass?" he said.

"They're gonna mark you as a newbie no matter what you do," Frill replied. "But you'll fit in."

That would be good enough, David decided. His confidence returned. He slipped out of his clothes, to put on his new outfit.

"Mmm-mm!"

The exclamation made David turn to see Frill casting an approving eye and sly smile in his direction.

"I hope Mandy-girl knows what she's got," Frill said.

David shrugged the compliment off and returned to dressing, hoping the other boy didn't notice him blushing.

**12**

'Club 101' turned out to be an aged industrial structure set beneath a criss-crossing latticework of freeway ramps that hadn't been used in almost a century. It had once been a center for the manufacture of farming equipment; cultivators, slurry tankers, shoot harvesters and the huge barrier enclosures that had been a last attempt to stave off the rising waters. But long before the floods had drowned fertile soil and human labor had been replaced with compliant Mecha, many of the jobs that had driven the economy of this small exurban community had been shipped off to foreign lands.

It was a ghost town now. Empty houses, once inhabited by working class families, sat boarded and decayed; shelter for vags and transies, addicts and cons. The dark houses lined the broken roadways that disappeared into the lush new-growth forest to the east, and beneath the risen waters that lay to the south.

The club sat on the outskirts of everything. Both literally and in metaphor. It was a gathering spot for forgotten and discarded youth. Rebels. Runaways. Tranc addicts. Wireheads. Unsanctioned children who'd grown to adolescence on the fringes of society. A dark Neverland inhabited by the young flotsam jetsam of a drowned empire.

A raucous group of the young Crash Jammers milled about at the entrance. The large sliding doors had been decorated with smashed and burned body parts of Mecha victims. Old Iron, likely. Discards and rejects. Hanging anything new up there would be admission of a crime.

A few of the wild young Orga were clad in black and metal, shaven heads and fierce piercings; vicious tattoos emblazoned on arms and faces. A few of the older boys sported 'shields'; metal enhancements surgically attached to their bodies for the advantage in fights with Mecha. Spikes on their shoulders. Steel braces over knuckles. Elbow cuffs and shin guards. They were baby-faced warriors of an unofficial Orga liberation front, who destroyed robots for fun and, on rare occasions, for profit

"Let's do this," said David as he opened his door.

"Master Holt," said a firm voice from the back seat. David slapped himself in the forehead. He had almost forgotten.

"Ah, Lex," he said without turning.

"This location was not cleared, I'm afraid," Lex warned. "I cannot allow you to attend without notifying your father."

David winked at Frill before he turned and smiled at his Mecha bodyguard.

"Listen carefully," he said.

**13**

All the Mecha at Cybertronics had an override code. It was standard procedure. But getting hold of Lex's had been quite a trick. David had entered a false line of data in his 500; a little tweak that would cause the security scanner to misread its identifier as that of a bodyguard. This wouldn't have been possible with a marketed David. Their ID would have been read only. After David changed the ID line, he created a processing loop that would make the robot ignore a direct order from anyone but himself.

When the guard had used the scanner to find the prototype's override, the system had mistaken it for a Lex model, and had then had tried to use the guard's code to break the processing loop. Fortunately, all the in-house Lex units used the same code. When the Lex code didn't work on the 500, the scanner automatically reset the parameters and tried the other codes in it's database until it found the correct sequence.

David's other trick, of which he was immensely proud and really hoped his Father would never find out about, was to program his little Mecha sibling to record all he data it was exposed to during the scan. And the trick worked perfectly. When the bot returned, David loaded the stolen code onto his console and had it snoop the system to find the corresponding vocal string.

"Andronicus. Fidelus. Three, dash twenty dash zero three." David said.

Lex stared at him quizzically. For one moment the boy thought his little scheme had failed. But when the large Mecha's expression went blank, his worries were put to rest.

"State your model and function," he said.

"Lex,1200 Series, Cybertronics Personal Protection Unit" the Mecha recited in a monotone.

"False," David said.

**14**

All his worries had been for nothing, it seemed. David passed though the doorway, past the rough looking boys at the entrance, without drawing so much as a second glance. One of them even nodded a quick appraisal of his clothes and flashed a hand sign. David recognized the salute. A hand shaped to form the letter C, then folded to a fist and tapped hard over the heart. He'd seen CJ kids throwing it back and forth in a few of their online videos. He thrust his chin up and returned the gesture, and the boy went back to his conversation.

He wondered how many of the group had took part in the raid at the Nexus. None of them seemed to recognize he or Frill. Though they did look a bit different now.

"Just act like you belong here." Frill advised as they entered the large room.

If there were anyplace in the world where David didn't belong, it was here. But he had some experience in projecting false impressions. He strapped on his new persona and affected the menacing traits that defined CJ kids.

The club hadn't undergone many changes since it was used for manufacturing. Old equipment was still there, but had been converted to be used as tables and resting spots for kids who had had danced themselves out. Large support pylons, which erupted from the floor and rose to the ceiling, were covered with speaker systems and flashing lights. Shattered bodies of broken Mecha adorned the walls and hung from the high ceilings. David could make out their shapes in the lights that flashed in hues of red, blue and amber, the base colors of the spectrum to symbolize the primal state of being. Orga. Human. Pure.

The music was pounding and fierce. No elaborate arrangements here. No lofty lyrical metaphors. The message was guttural and raw:

_We're alive!_

_We're flesh and blood!_

_Feel our heart beat!_

Popular bands like Flesh Rite, who'd tempered their lyrics after they made it into the mainstream, were just considered rich sell outs by these kids. Their anthems were sung by hardcore CJ groups with names like "Crash Fetish", "Blitz Creed" and "Fiber F*ck Brigade". They used no holographic backup shows, had nixed the digital instruments for beat up guitars and drums, played old fashioned analog amplifiers and '_chort'_ instruments; things which were made from any refuse of the old world that could be used to pound on or hooked up to an amplifier to make noise. Any noise would do. As long as it was created through pure Orga creativity and played by Orga hands.

Some were quiet clever, as David had seen in his web searches. Packing containers that had been tied together and tuned, were used as drums to create backup rhythms for Crash Poets. Construction materials that were torn from the flesh of sunken buildings, and hooked up to amplifiers just to see what kind of sound they'd make. It was chaotic, discordant yet had it's own peculiar aesthetic. Raw creativity.

The band on the small stage now, was called 'Man's Child'. It consisted of five people. The sound was distorted and brash and David could barely make out the words. But the other kids obviously knew the tune for they were singing along. The song, which came fast and pounding, had an appealing hint of Irish folk music. The band consisted of two skin-head boys pounding out power chords on time-word Stratocasters, a thin young girl in a long black dress was doing was a surprisingly adequate job of playing a stand up bass. A heavy set girl wearing a gas mask stood behind them, beating on a 'chort' set of percussion, which looked like it had been made from pots pans and shipping containers, and had garbage can lids for cymbals. A thin feminine looking boy jumped around at the front of the stage, screaming into a distorted mike.

The room was filled with noise and heat, the scent of sweat and humanity. No perfume here. No economic distinction created by clothes or make up. They were all races and genders. Short hair. Long hair. Fat. Thin. Muscular and slight. The only thing they had in common was the black clothing and the willingness to do violence. They pressed together on the dance floor. David realized what had appeared to just be kids crashing into one another, was actually some strange sort of dance. It was violent and reckless, but no one was getting hurt.

David was brought out of his thoughts by a tug on his arm. Frill was pointing to the side of the room, out of the crowd. He leaned in to yell over the din.

"He's here somewhere!" he said. "What do we do when we find him?"

The boy stared at David expectantly. He smiled back awkwardly and glanced around the crowd. He really hadn't planned this part too well. He'd just assumed he would approach Myron, make peace and somehow and try to find out who had been behind the job at the Nexus. Of course he knew Myron was not going to just tell him who it was. But if he asked the right questions the boy might slip and reveal a name that David already knew. There was only one name he was concerned with. Maybe two. He was just going to have to 'wing it', he thought, improvise the situation as it occurred.

How could he have planned this kind of thing anyway? Too many variables… the _unknown unknowns_, as it were.

Frill cocked his head to the side and raised his brows, as if to say 'welllll?'

David was about to respond when one of the unknowns unexpectedly hit him from behind. He managed to maintain his balance, and turned quickly, fist raised and ready to strike. But what he saw was a smiling face. A pretty one too. Piercing blue eyes gazed manically at him from beneath a head of wild blonde hair that fell down over her forehead. She was panting and sweating … and laughing?

"Hey, sweet thaaang!" she yelled over the music. "What's your name?"

"Dav… uh Blue!" David yelled back, still unsure if his fist was necessary.

The girl screwed up her face as if it was the dumbest name she'd ever heard. David shrugged as if to say it was a best he could do.

"I'm Grizel" she screamed.

David acknowledge this information with a nod and was about to tell Grizel that he was busy and couldn't do whatever it was she had in mind. But she obviously had other plans for him.

The girl suddenly grabbed David's arm and yanked him towards the mad throng on the dance floor. She was a lot stronger than she looked. He glanced back at Frill, his eyes pleading a message: _'what the hell do I do now?'_

But Frill was already laughing at his situation.

"Let's crash!" David's pretty abductor screamed as she threw him into another kid. David bounced against the boy, who quickly turned and, instead of taking throwing a fist as David fully expected, bounced his chest against David's and then jumped to pound his back against Grizel. She laughed and returned the body slam, and the boy went on to crash into someone else. David was trying to make a quick exit when he was hit from another direction. He corrected his balance and tried to get away again when Grizel pushed him into someone else.

In moments David found himself in the middle of the mad free for all. Bodies pressed around him, closing off his escape. He was pounded and slammed, bounced on and knocked about like a doll as he tried to maintain his balance. Grizel found him again, grabbed him by the shoulders and leaned against him to yell in his ear.

"Just go with it, newbie!" she screamed. David shoved her off and fought against the mad press of bodies. But it suddenly occurred to him that she might have had been trying to tell him something. If he just went with he flow, could he keep his footing? David decided to try it, and then slowly worked his way to the edge of the dance floor. As he relaxed he found that every time someone bounced against him, there was another body to stop his fall. When he bounced into that person, they bounced into another, and on and on it would go. That's why they mobbed so close, he realized. They had to, so the dance would work… because it was a dance. A strange violent dance.

He was starting to get the hang of it, crashing back and forth in the frenzied mob of kids. It was even starting to resemble something like fun, when the music suddenly changed tempo. The dancers slowed in time with a new throbbing beat. Instead of 'crashing' they were now 'warbling, as he would later learned it was called. The kids began weaving between one another, like an undulating hive. David was quickly getting lost in the heat, and found himself reacting to the potent physical energy of the dance. It flowed up from his loins and enveloped him; the electricity of bodies against bodies, sweat, heated breath, hypnotic trance of reckless hungry youth, hungry for humanity, for all the things lost before they'd ever been born and hungry for revenge on those that stole it; hungry for life, for love, for each other; unabashed, shameless.

It wasn't really sexual as much as sensual; primal; the remnant of ancient tribal rituals stored in a common genetic memory.

Something broke him from the trance. A hand yanking on his shoulder. David looked to see Frill at the edge of the crowd, reaching over a shirtless boy to grab his collar. David came to his senses. He had work to do.

He was trying to maneuver his way to the edge of the warbling crowd, hoping the crazy girl named Grizel wouldn't see him and try to abduct him again.

That was when the shirtless boy beside him suddenly turned.

Their eyes met. Recognition set in. Then surprise. Time froze.

The boys stood that way for immeasurable moments, chest to chest, panting into each other faces, as the people around them carried on their slow undulating trance dance.

David nodded, as if to say 'hi'.

Myron snarled, as if to say 'screw you.'

Then he threw the first punch.

(cont…)


	34. Chapter 34

**Alive**

**Book 2**

**Pt11**

**1**

Perhaps it was the heat, and the sting in his eyes from the sweat running off his brow. Perhaps it was the throbbing din of music in his ears and the pulsing, rhythmic swoon of bodies pressed heavily against his own. But David didn't react in time. Not even close.

Myron's fist caught him under his jaw. He'd been about to speak; to try and say something that would avoid the fight he saw stirring in the boy's eyes, so his mouth had been partially opened when Myron swung. The impact rattled his teeth, caused him to bite down on his tongue. The pain was mind numbing, reduced his impulse to strike back to an instant and irresistible urge to flee. He fell backwards, his scream of shock and pain inaudible in the roar of the band. The warbling dancers couldn't hear him. They only parted because of the strength of his collapse. They started pushing at him, shouting complaints that no one could hear. Myron came crashing down after him, swinging and swearing as David tried to push away between the legs of the people on the crowded dance floor.

David felt two more blows hit his midriff and then another on his leg. He kicked blindly and hard. Felt his steel-toed boot, which he'd bought especially for this trip, hit something. He really hoped it was Myron. He didn't want to bring anyone else into this fight.

The forest of legs suddenly parted as more dancers became aware of the fray. David crawled quickly through the cleared space. In seconds he was in the clear, away from the dancers, cupping his painful jaw, feeling his tongue began to throb and tasting the coppery tang of blood in his mouth.

"Dammit!" he screamed as he rose to his feet. But nobody heard; he could barely hear himself in the blaring sound.

He turned, expecting to see the mob closing in and punches and kicks to rain down on him as they realized a 'Shiny' boy had donned a disguise and dared to pose as one of them. But the opening had closed and the warbling continued without him. It was as if nothing happened.

The band droned on.

David stepped away from the crowd, wiped his hand across his mouth. He was bleeding. Not bad though. His injury was more painful than anything. He began to pace his breathing. His head was clearing. His balance was returning. Where was Frill? He started looking for his friend when he noticed a sweaty, shirtless boy with a familiar face push his way out of the barrier of dancers and look to and fro before his eyes settled on David.

Myron wasn't finished.

But David was ready this time. He crouched into a slight fighting stance; just enough for good footing but not enough that Myron would see that he knew what he was doing. The boy attacked, teeth bared, his battle cry lost in the music. David pressed back on his support leg, preparing to unleash the blow he as sure would end this fight.

That's when somebody grabbed him from behind. He flailed and tried to elbow his captor, but whoever it was also knew what they were doing. David's legs were kicked from underneath him. He fell to the ground, the pain in his jaw flaring anew as he struck the floor. But he kept his senses, pushed the pain away and lashed out with his foot.

Nothing! His captor had moved out of kicking range. There was no time to rise. David flipped on to his back, legs ready to strike. Then he saw who had knocked him to the floor.

Frill?

The boy had apparently been trying to break up the fight. He was now struggling with Myron; had him by the wrists, and seemed to be trying to calm him down. Myron's angry eyes kept darting between his Shiny ex-lover and David, His mouth was moving as he uttered curses that David couldn't make out. But Frill was apparently stronger than David had assumed, and every time Myron tried to free himself to resume his assault, Frill shifted his footing and trapped the boy again.

A few dancers glanced at the dispute but it didn't hold their interest long. Altercations were obviously not such a big deal here. Some black-clad girls had taken a seat nearby to watch the scuffle with casual interest. But that was a far as their involvement went.

"Clam down!" Frill was yelling as he grappling with his enraged ex. It was the only voice David could hear, though just faintly, above the band. But Myron's anger could not be repressed. He managed to break free of Frill's grip and pushed him hard. Frill fell to the floor and Myron rushed at David, a look of feral glee in his eyes.

David started to rise. Myron kicked. David fell, blocked and kicked back. Myron shifted position and kicked again. David blocked and tried to rise… and then fell back down when Myron swiped his support leg. Frill was up again… then immediately back on the floor as Myron tripped him and resumed kicking at David.

And the band droned on.

As the boys kicked back and forth in a heated stalemate, a lone figure broke from the warbling crowd, walked calmly to Myron's side and tapped him on the shoulder. Myron turned, enraged at having his vengeance interrupted.

Grizel swung a perfect punch. Myron whipped around like a mad Whirling Dervish. Then toppled to the floor.

The girl raised her fists above her head triumphantly. She flexed her shoulders, wiped the hair out of her face, blew David a parting kiss, and walked nonchalantly back to the dance.

David waved gratefully as he watched her retreat, wondering what he'd gotten himself into now. He looked at Frill, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, laughing. The boy glanced back at David and made a comical expression, which seemed to say, _'well, at least we found him'. _

David had to concede that much.

A thickly muscled man arrived then, shaking his shaven head as he surveyed the scene. He had a full body of tats, and was wearing a tight black shirt with the number '101' emblazoned in red on the chest. He held his arms out to his sides, as if to say _'what the hell is going on here?'_ Without waiting for an answer that he couldn't hear anyway, he pointed to the door, as if to say _'get the hell out!'_

And the band droned on.

**2**

When he finally came to, Myron wasn't in much of a mood for fighting. And that was good, for neither was David.

They were outside now, banished for the night, or until they could sneak back in, if they had so desired. The sky had been shrouded for a time, but the overcast was breaking and pinpoint stars were peeking out. David was sitting on the seat of an old and rusty tractor, massaging his aching jaw and spitting the taste of blood from his mouth. His father would have questions. Especially since Lex had been shut off and would have no recollection of how David had been wounded. His plan would probably be uncovered. But he couldn't worry about that now.

Myron was laying where he been left, propped against an old tire. He'd been moaning, fading in and out of consciousness for a few minutes. When he at last opened his eyes, the two glared at each other for a tense moment. Myron finally understood that David wasn't going to attack. He pushed up onto his elbow and rubbed his head.

"Who the hell hit me?" he moaned.

"I think she was a German war Goddess," David replied. Myron shot him a dark look.

"A girl?" he said.

David shrugged.

"Technically speaking," he said

Myron frowned skeptically, and then took in his surroundings. The light was faint, but he could see they were in the gathering of old farming equipment by the fence around the field where the cruisers were parked. The equipment had been tossed outside a few years earlier, when CJ craze was just starting and the 101 had been cleaned out and converted to a club. The ancient equipment was worthless. So it had just been left to sit and rust.

In the distance he could see the band unloading their equipment and the next one lugging theirs inside. A crowd of kids had gathered at the entrance, smoking and drinking as they chatted with the band members. A few CJ kids passed nearby, on their way to their cruisers. They glanced at the strange trio lounging in the old machinery, but obviously had other things on their mind and went on their way.

"How'd I get out here?" Myron said.

"We dragged your sorry ass," said Frill.

Myron whipped his head around to see Frill a few feet away, leaning against the fence. Another moment of silent staring followed. But David could see that it wasn't anger that filled the space between these two. It was something deeper. More complex.

"What are you doing here," Myron said finally. "Why aren't you at the Nexus with your gang of Shiny posers?" He turned his glare back on David. "And why'd you drag Mister Ass-pants along?"

"Nice to see you too," David said.

"We just came to talk," Frill said, rising from the fence to stand at Myron's feet. He offered a helping hand, but Myron batted it away.

"I can get up myself," he said. But when he tried to rise, his legs wobbled and he fell to a sitting position.

"Ahh," he groaned, cupping his head in hands. "Who in the hell was this girl?"

"You're better off not knowing," Frill said. "You might try to get even and that would be an extremely bad idea. Trust me."

David got off the tractor and stood over Myron. The boy looked up with a challenge in his eye. But David could see his uncertainty.

"I don't want to fight anymore," he said. "We don't have to be friends but-"

"Don't worry about that happening, ass-pants" Myron interrupted. David continued calmly.

"…but, we don't have to go at each other every time we meet." He pointed to his bruised jaw. "I scored. You scored. I think that makes us even."

Myron analyzed David's face. David shifted so that the boy could see him in the light coming from the club.

"That's mine, eh?" Myron said, a hint of pride in his voice.

David could have pointed out it was a lucky punch; just like the one he'd scored at the Nexus. But diplomacy was the better part of building bridges. He nodded a reluctant admission.

"Satisfied?" he said

"Sure, ass-pants," Myron said. "I guess we can call it even… for now."

"Fair enough," David replied. "But I prefer to be called Blue. I mean, you may think I'm a Shiny wuss, but I'm not the one who got knocked out by a girl."

Myron chewed on this a second.

"Blue?" He said the name like it described some slithering thing. "What a perfect Shiny name. But ok. So what are you doing here, 'Blue'? Got tied of hanging with the squishy boys and decided to get real?"

"Am I supposed to be one of the squishy boys?" Frill said. "Because I remember a time when we were being squishy together."

David tried not to laugh but didn't do a very good job. Myron raised his hands in surrender.

"Alright, alright," he said. "I'm just messing with you." He put his hand out to Frill. "Truce?"

Frill hesitated, but then reached down and helped him up. Myron took leaned on him until he caught his balance, and then wiped the sand off his torso. David noticed the bruise where his boot had struck Myron's side. 'So that's two for me' he thought. He didn't say anything though. A balance had been achieved. Best to let it stand.

"My shirt?" Myron said.

"Somewhere on the dance floor, probably" Frill replied. "That security ape didn't let me look for it." Myron sighed and hugged himself against the chill.

"So what do you two want?" he said.

David wasn't sure how to start. But why not cut to the chase? No need to be coy now.

"I know about the snoops," he said.

"What snoops?" Myron replied quickly. It was a noble attempt, but the look that flashed across his face said everything.

"The ones you were paid to plant in the fight at the Nexus One," David replied. "They look sort of like spiders to the untrained eye. Designed to steal passwords for port shields and account numbers. They dissolve if you try to scan them?"

He cocked his head to the side, daring Myron to deny it.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Myron replied.

"I'm no pwerk," David said. "I just want to know where you got them. They're…" he paused, trying to figure an angle. "They're good work and I want to get hold of some." David was instantly proud of this lie. It was one of those moments of true Orga inspiration and he wondered why it hadn't occurred to him earlier..

Myron's face went from denial to suspicion. His gaze shifted from David to Frill, who was quick witted enough to join in on the ruse, and nodded to confirm what David had said. A sly grin broke out on Myron's face.

"You mean 'skike'," he said to David. "Pwerk is what we call regular cops. Skike is the word for snitches."

Then he turned and started walking away, headed towards the club.

David swore to himself. After all he'd gone through to get here, the meeting was dissolving right before his eyes.

"I've got the money," he called, trying not to sound desperate.

But Myron just waved a hand over his shoulder.

"Chill," he said. "I'll be right back. I need to get my shirt and snag a skif, and I can tell by looking you ain't got any."

David cocked a curious brow at Frill.

"He'll come back," Frill said, reassuringly.

"Sure," David said. "But what's a 'skif'?"

**3**

Myron held up a finger, signaling David to wait a moment before he continued his story. The shirt he had retrieved from the club was jet black and decorated with a crudely drawn boot smashing a Mecha's head. The number '310' was emblazoned in a jagged font on the back. David had seen the number before, on shirts and tattoos and painted on a few cruisers. He had questions about it, but they could wait until Myron was finished.

The boy sniffed, like he was about to sneeze, but managed to keep holding his breath. At last he exhaled, turning his head up to the sky. The smoke streamed from his mouth and billowed like silvery mist in the night.

"Ahhh," Myron sighed. "I needed that. Really helps with the slag."

"Slag?" David said.

But Myron had taken another puff and was holding his breath again. So Frill, who was sitting on the old tire, absentmindedly drawing shapes in the dirt with a stick, answered for him.

"It's the stuff they put in the food in lock-up," he said. "Keeps the inmates tired so they won't get in fights." He raised his head and shot a sly look at Myron. "Keeps 'em from doing 'other stuff' too."

Myron ignored the tease as he exhaled.

"Yeah, it's some kifed up crap," he said. "I was only in for a week, man, and I'm just now getting over it. You never been slagged?"

"Never been in lock-up," David said.

Myron nodded to acknowledge David's successful evasion of the law. He leaned forward and held out the 'skif'. But David waved it away.

"I'll pass," he said, trying to sound like this was a common occurrence.

"You sure?" Myron said, a disappointed look on his face. "It's not that off-the-shelf commercial crap. This is primo. Vag grown. Fresh Appalachian crop."

"Nah," David insisted. "I'm alright."

"I'm not alright," Frill said, and snatched the skif from Myron's hand. He took a huge puff and blew the smoke up into the air, like Myron had done.

David noticed the glance that passed between them, and the way Myron looked away when he saw David watching. Without the angry snarl, he looked rather innocent. Handsome even. His face had a faint cherubic quality His dark hair was shortly cropped on the side, but hung over his forehead and dangled into his dark eyes when he lowered his head, giving him a mysterious air. It was easier to imagine he and Frill being together now that David saw him this way.

And there was something else David noticed as he gazed on Myron's face. Just for an instant he seemed faintly familiar. But the feeling was gone as quick as it had come.

"So, you were telling me your story," Myron said

"Oh, yes," David said, trying to remember where he was in the tale. He hadn't smoked anything himself. But just being around the skif was having an effect.

"Anyway, we did hustles along the southern Jersey rim, " David said, surprised at how easily he had adopted the posture and attitude that he'd used to fit in with the gang. "Ashwood. Southampton. Lindenwood. Lots of Clubs and Holo shows. Concerts. Stuff like that." He had been sharing a highly edited tale about his short time as a boy criminal, hoping to gain Myron's trust by assuring him that he was 'in the game'. But he made no mention of scamming people at Flesh Fairs. That might not go over well with a Crash kid.

"We played role games to bring the marks and place snoops on their sleeves. When they scanned for entry, the snoop would kipe the data and we'd have a few hours to break into their accounts before their server's security caught the pattern of withdrawals and automatically locked us out."

Myron hummed knowingly, and reached out for the skif. But Frill turned away to take another puff. Myron frowned but didn't make an issue of it.

"That's pretty old skool," he said to David. "Hustlers been using spiders for years, man. You must have been a little kid back then."

"Yeah, it was a while ago," David admitted. "But I wasn't really a kid. I've never really been a kid."

David flinched even as the words left his mouth. The calm mood and second-hand smoke had had made him speak a little more freely than he'd intended. But Myron just nodded at the cryptic remark, as if it made complete sense to him. And maybe it did. Maybe in his world even the Orga children had to grow up fast.

"Yeah, it's not all about the money anymore," Myron said, as if speaking to a partner in crime. "There's the game, and there's the cause. The game supports the cause. Not the other way around."

"The cause?" David said.

Myron made a Crash Jam sign over his chest.

"Three Ten," he said. "Kife the fibe."

310? There it was again. David wasn't sure what it meant, but he knew 'kife the fibe'. _'F*ck the Mecha'._ He kept a stoic face, though. Not agreeing or disagreeing. He needed Myron to trust him and wanted to see where the boy's peaceful mood would lead.

"So you're really into this whole scene," David said. "It's not just for fun?"

Myron reached out for the skif again. Frill finally passed what was left of it, and Myron took a last toke.

"There's a war coming," he said softly, dropping the butt of the skif to the ground and snuffing it under his boot. "Better take some time from your Shiny parties to figure out what side you're on."

"A war between the Shiny's and CJs?" David said.

"Between Orga and Mecha," Myron replied.

"Oh, not this again," Frill said, placing his head in his hands. "I had to listen to this crap for months."

"You might have listened, but you never really heard," Myron shot back.

"Oh please," Frill snapped. "Smashing up butlers and roadway service bots? Posting videos of your stupidity. Is that your war? It's just thuggery, Myron."

"That's just where we start," Myron said, his ire rising. "You don't climb a ladder from the top, Frill."

"Ladder to what? King of CJ Mountain? What do you win? Jail time?"

"You Shinys never get it!" Myron was shouting now, his anger returning with a vengeance. "They're pushing us out. Taking our jobs, our future. They're in everything. They run everything. They know how much you make. How much you owe. Where you spend it, what you spend it on. You can't even take a piss without some fibe scooping you out."

"So why attack us," Frill said. "If it all about the Mecha why start fights with the Shinys?"

Myron sighed as if the question was beneath him.

"You think we hate you, but that not it, man!" he said. Then he leaned back and spread his arms out as a soft breeze rolled over them. "Feel that on your skin, man!" he said. "It the breath of the world! No Mecha can understand that! Only we feel it , man. It's in our souls. Because we're alive! Human. Orga. We're all brothers and sisters! Flesh and bone! We eat. We sleep. We love and hate! We screw!

"But you Shiny's live your life in the machine; _for _the machine. It thinks for you. Makes decisions for you. Plays your music! Tell you when to pay your bills. What time of day to eat and sleep and crap! How many kids you can have!"

Myron stopped suddenly. He seemed to have realized his anger was getting the best of him, and tried to collect himself. He continued softer.

"Sometimes you have to knock people out to wake them up," he said when he was in control.

But Frill hadn't calmed down.

"Oh, don't pretend this has anything to do with your stupid war fantasy, Myron!" he said. "This Crash Jam crap is just a tired fad. Next year you'll find something else to obsess about and then you'll be telling all the CJ kids they're the idiots! "

"Don't start with me, Franklin!" Myron said.

"You're the one who started it!" Frill yelled.

"And you're the one who cheated on me!"

Myron stopped himself again, and covered his mouth. He'd said more than he intended. Frill looked away, his face red with embarrassment. David was beginning to understand now. Is this what had happened? Was it was Frill's infidelity as much as Myron's involvement with the violent Crash kids that had driven them apart? He remembered how quickly Frill had been willing to arrange what he assumed was a date when Zee had been indisposed.

But this subject matter was not why David was here. It was taking the conversation towards a pointless dead end. He had to change direction quick.

"Three Ten, Myron," he said. "What's that mean?"

Myron took a moment to compose himself.

"The cause," he said. "C is the third letter. J, the tenth. 3-10. Crash Jam. It's just another way of saying it."

"Oh," David said. Well, that was simple. It should have been obvious. Then something stuck him.

"And 101?" he said. "That means something too, doesn't it?"

Myron leaned back and regarded David coolly for a moment.

"You said you ran with a crew," he said, sizing David up. "Whose crew?"

David hesitated. He had intentionally not shared that information. Crews had disputes. Disputes sometimes turned into wars. He had no idea who Myron had been working with when he'd joined the raid at the Nexus. It could have been one of Sy's enemies. And if it did turn out to be Dreven Olmier, there was still no telling if mentioning Sy would help. But he had to chance it. He really had no choice.

"His name was Sy," he said.

Myron's eyes squinted, like he was thinking hard.

"Southwood Sy? Sy Cleve?" he said. "Big black guy. Bald head?"

"Didn't know his last name, but yeah, that describes him."

"Nobody knew his last name," Myron said. "Not until he got busted and it was all over the news feeds."

David knew this was a test. He proceeded cautiously.

"I never heard about that," he replied.

"Yeah. Happened a few years back," Myron said. "Before I was in the game."

"Sorry to hear it," David said. It was a sincere sentiment. "Sy was good to me. Took me under his wing. Taught me the game. How to hustle. How to rumble. But that was a long time ago."

Myron's features softened. "Guess there's more to you than meets the eye," he said. "I was too young for the game back then. But Sy's crew is bit of a legend. Never heard of you though."

"Why would you? I didn't get busted." David said. Myron conceded that this was a logical point.

"Was it official?" he said. "I mean, did you get jumped into the crew?"

"I ran the gauntlet, if that's what you mean. Hustled with them for a few months."

"And then?"

"Then I had to move on."

Myron's eyes bore into David. David returned the gaze unflinching, knowing he was looking at the last wall, the last barrier to what the boy knew. He had to get past it.

"I jumped ship over five years ago," David said. "Sy was getting hooked up with some people I didn't trust. Looks like he shouldn't have trusted him either."

"Who?" Myron said.

"Some big money guy who was running scams in Rouge City," David said. "I think he's still around." David was being coy, hoping the comment would steer the conversation towards Olmier. He didn't want to mention the man's name himself. Not just yet. But Myron went another direction.

"Name some of Sy's crew," Myron said. It was another test.

It had been half a decade, and David's Orga memory was nothing like the digital one he'd abandoned. But the crew had been the closest thing to family he'd had back then. He remembered them well.

"Dareck. Badger. Kyle. Lonnie." David said, tossing out every name he could recall and describing the faces of the ones he couldn't. "Nance took care of us. I think she was Sy's woman but I never really knew. She had full body ink and an old beat up klunk named Neville to do all the chores." He paused for a moment, hesitant about mentioning the last name. It was the only one that made him nostalgic.

"And there was The Wiz Kid," he said, unable to repress his smile. "We used to work The Little Cuz scam together. She was the best…. and a good friend."

Myron was nodding his head. Listening carefully, but giving no indication of what he was thinking.

"Oh, and there was a guy name Animal," David remembered. "But he was older and wore a lot of ink. So Sy didn't use him for scams anymore. He played security and ran the numbers sometimes."

This name seemed to take Myron aback. He looked away for a moment, seeming to be lost in thought. Then he rose and beckoned David.

"Come with me," he said.

"Where?" David said, hesitantly.

"You want in on those spiders or not?" Myron said. " I don't give a crap either way."

David wasn't sure he could trust the boy. But he'd come this far. So much at stake. He stood and signaled he was ready to go.

Frill rose too, but Myron held up his hand.

"Wait here for us, ok?" he said. Frill crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. Sensing the beginning of another fight, Myron held his palms out in a sign of surrender.

"Sorry I yelled at you," he said. "And sorry for all that crap I said, alright? We had a thing, it was good. And now it's over. What's done is done. It's nobody's fault."

Frill glared at him, lips pursed. The silence stretched out for a time. Then Myron surprised them both by reaching out to embrace Frill. After a moment's hesitation, Frill returned the hug. Then it suddenly turned into a kiss.

David looked away; at his feet, at the club, at the sky, at anything but the raw emotion of their embrace. It seemed to go on forever. People passed by, going to and from the club. They didn't seem to notice or to care.

When Myron finally pulled away, Frill was smiling. It was a warm smile, not the sardonic or sarcastic one he was used to. So this is what they had been like before, David thought; before whatever had come between them.

"Back in twenty," Myron said. Then he tapped David on the shoulder and they began walking towards the dark rows of dilapidated houses that lined the broken roadways.

David looked back and waved as he left. But Frill wasn't watching. He was sitting on the old tire again, arms crossed, staring up at the sky. His expression seemed lost in a moment of nostalgic regret.

**4**

Myron strode quickly across the field. David walked beside him, glancing at him now and then. Even in the scant light he could see the purpose in Myron's face. The certainty. This was not at all what he had expected. He had pegged the boy as a reckless blow-hard; an unsatisfied and insatiable _'rebel without a clue'_, who had joined up with the CJ kids just for the wild ride. But there was something different going on in this boy's head. All that nonsense about a Mecha vs Orga war aside, Myron did have some kind of purpose. As crazy as his ideas seemed, he believed the things he said. But why? Why was he so sure? Where did he get this stuff from?

"I thought you two were finished," David said, trying to start a conversation. "You and Frill."

"We are," Myron said.

"Then what was that all about?" David said. "Back there?"

"I just wanted to shut him up," Myron replied flatly. "He was always too emotional."

He said it like it was an insult. David was about to point out that emotions were also what Orga shared; what made them unique. If Myron was going to take such pride in being Orga, shouldn't he also celebrate emotions? But he could tell by the tone of the boy's voice it would be better to change the subject.

"Where are we going?" he said as they stepped onto the cracked asphalt of the old road. The dark rows of ancient houses lie silent just across the other side. Myron didn't respond at first.

"I thought you were just a poser at first," he said after a thoughtful silence. "The way you were talking. Hell, anyone with a good subnet sleuth could have pieced that story together. But…"

"But what?" David said when he didn't continue.

Myron stopped suddenly. Looked up and down the road and then behind them, like he was making sure they weren't being followed. It was an absurd gesture in the dark, but David played along, and looked to and fro a few times.

"But, there was one thing you said that was really interesting," Myron said as he began walking again.

"And that was?".

"The Wiz Kid."

"What about her?" David asked.

"Well, that's the thing," Myron said with a chuckle. "How'd you know she was a girl?"

David slapped a palm against his forehead. Of course! Wizzy had always posed as a boy. Nobody on the outside would have known any better. Even he had not figure it out until Nance had told him. David realized he had inadvertently validated his own story.

"And how did you know he was really a she?" he said.

Myron didn't reply, but David saw his head turn briefly as he eyed him in the dark. He wasn't going to get an answer.

"What ever happened to her?" he asked instead.

"I'm not really the one to ask," Myron replied.

They passed between two old houses and into a wooded area, following a path that had been worn though the overgrown weeds and brush. The sound of crickets was even louder here, and the raw smell of the woodland was strong. From the across roadway the houses had appeared dark and empty. But as they passed behind them, David saw soft candlelight coming from the few windows that weren't boarded up, and the shadows of people moving about inside.

"People live here," he said.

"Well, aren't you the sharp one," Myron muttered.

David decided to keep any further observations to himself.

They finally came to an old two-story house that stood beneath a gathering of trees at the point where the woods grew dense. With no human intervention the branches had grown to cover the roof like a giant leafy canopy. The place looked like something from an old 20th century haunted house film.

Myron opened the gate of the creaking iron fence. David paused, suddenly skeptical about the boy's intentions.

"I have to know what we're doing here before I go inside," he said.

"Getting squishy on me, eh?" Myron laughed. But when David stood his ground, the boy turned and called out.

"Yo! It's me!"

The house was quiet. But David thought he saw a small flash of dim light through a window. Someone must have pushed the curtains aside to see who was calling. A moment later the front door opened. David heard it more than saw it; rusty hinges creaking in the night, then the floorboards of the old porch groaning as someone passed over. A figure was approaching. It seemed too tall for a kid, and when it came closer, he could see it was a man.

He was lanky and tall, walked with slow cocky gait. But David couldn't make out the man's features. If he'd still been a Mecha, he would have been able to… David stopped himself. He had to quit thinking that way. Those days were long gone.

"Wazzup, little man," the stranger said. He was talking to Myron, but David had the immediate feeling he'd heard that voice before.

"You know this guy?" Myron said.

A sudden beam of light shot into David eyes, blinding him. He stepped back and held his hand up to block it.

"If I was gonna hurt you, it would already be done." The man said. "Let me see your face." It was more of an order than a request.

David slowly dropped his hand and let himself be scrutinized. Then the light clicked off.

"Well, I'll be damned," the man said. Now David was certain he knew that voice. But from where?

The light flashed on again, but this time the man was pointing it at his own face. He was older now, had shaved his head and grown a thick goatee to cover the marks left by the lip piercings he no longer wore. But he still had the same tattoos. And the same dark calculating eyes.

"Animal!" David said, surprised at his own excitement.

"Wazzup Pork Chop?" his old partner in crime said with a hearty laugh. "Where the hell you been, boy? We thought you was dead."

(cont…)


	35. Chapter 35

**Alive**

**Book 2**

**Pt12**

**1**

Once again David was struck by the peculiarities of his Orga mind. He hadn't known Animal that well. Had said no more than a few words to him the whole time he ran with the crew. They had almost worked together, David remembered, then Sy had stepped in and paired him with the Wiz Kid. But seeing Animal again, being around him, even after so many years, brought back the memory of those days in a flash. It was different now. He wasn't on the run. He had a home to go to and a life of his own. Those days just seemed like some wild adventure now. He'd forgotten the many times he'd feared for his life. The many times he'd had to fight his way out of some dangerous situation.

Strange, the Orga mind. The way it chose what to remember and how to remember it. And strange the way, as he followed Animal inside, David suddenly felt himself cast back in the role he'd played with the gang.

The house was ancient and creaky, smelled of musty carpets and rotted wood. There was no furniture, just a bedroll with an opened laptop on the floor beside it. The sound was off but the screen displayed a pale skinned Crash girl screaming into a megaphone as men with guitars shaped like axes hacked into a horde of attacking Mecha. It was a ridiculous idea; Mecha attacking an Orga woman. But David wasn't about to be critical. That's not why he was here.

Animal peeked out the curtains for a while. Then made sure no light would leak out before he lit a candle and joined Myron and David, who were sitting cross-legged on the warped wooden floor.

"Got to watch for the wire-heads around here," Animal said as he sat down. "They're always looking for houses where they can plug-in and zone out."

David knew what a wire-head was. People addicted to electrical stimulation of their cerebral pleasure centers. They got implants in the skull and 'juiced' for days at a time on low currents. Their lives tended to be short and dirty.

"I never thought of wire-heads as dangerous," David said. "They're usually pretty weak, aren't they?"

"Nah, not dangerous," Animal said. "Just disgusting. They'll sneak into an empty and shack up for weeks, juicing their brains out with little solar cells. They only stop long enough to eat something so they won't die. Then they hook up again. We have to chase 'em off before they get started or it takes days to clean the stink out."

"Oh," David said.

"What happened to your jaw, man," Animal said. "You been rumblin'?"

David and Myron stared at each other for a moment. Then they both broke into a laugh. It was a strange and unexpected moment of bonding. They weren't exactly friends; would likely never be that close. But they'd made a shaky peace.

Animal glanced back and forth between them, looking perturbed that he'd been left out of the joke.

"What's so funny?" he said.

"It's a long story," David said. He decided to change the subject. "So, you take care of these houses?"

"I just chase the losers away," Animal replied.

"Who lives out here?" David asked.

But the man didn't seem to want to answer that question. He too changed the subject.

"So, the enigmatic Pork Chop walks among us again," he said, stretching and leaning back on his elbows. "Makes his mark and then vanishes into the night. What you been up to, little hustler?"

"Pork Chop?" Myron sighed, shaking his head. "Man, you really know how to pick names."

"Hey, don't cap on this one," Animal said. "You don't want to get on his bad side. Hell, I remember that punch you gave me when you ran the gauntlet. Don't look it but this kid can rumble."

David smiled.

"Yeah. I can tell by that look you remember too," Animal said. David did remember that day. But he was sure Myron didn't need to be told he knew how to fight.

"Hell, you and The Wiz Kid always spotted the money marks, "Animal said. "You two could have started your own crew."

David shrugged away the ambiguous compliment. There might have been a time when he took pride in that. But those days were over.

"I did what I had to," he said.

"We all did," Animal said. "And we still do" David felt the gravity of the man's words but didn't know the implication.

"What happened to the crew?" he said. "Myron said something about Sy getting busted."

Animal sat up. His face grew pensive.

"Most of them are in lock-up," he said. "Younger ones are probably out by now, but I ain't seen 'em. I heard Tank headed out west and hooked up with another crew. But I don't really know. Haven't seen anyone."

"How did it happen," David said.

Animal gazed at the candle silently. The shadows cast by flickering light made him look older than his years.

"No time for that story," he said finally. "I got people dropping in soon. Let's just say some of Sy's plans went sour. If you're gonna shoot for the sky, better bring a chute for the fall. And keep an eye on who you trust, know when it's time to stop trusting 'em. Nuff said?"

David nodded at the cryptic reply. Animal wasn't going to talk about it. Fine. But there was something David had to know.

"What about Wizzy?" he said, hesitantly, hoping it wasn't bad news.

"Haven't seen her since those days," Animal said, his face cast down. Again he fell silent and would say no more. No news is better than bad news, David thought.

"Olmier, wasn't it?" he said. "I never did trust that guy."

Animal turned his eyes on David, but once again he didn't respond. David could tell he wasn't going to. Something had happened that he didn't want to talk about … but what? Now wasn't the time to push.

"You talk like you're not in the game anymore, Pork Chop," Animal said. "What're doing hanging with this crazy Crash brat loser?"

"Hey!" Myron bristled and threw a punch at Animal. The man blocked it with a casual laugh and the two tussled playfully before Animal tagged out.

"I go by Blue now," David said. "And I came to ask about getting in on those snoops the 'Crash brat' here tagged on me a few weeks ago."

"You got tagged?" Animal snorted a laugh. "Talk about ironic justice. Where?"

"At the Nexus," David replied. "Few weeks ago."

"He was hanging with the Shiny's." Myron said, as if he was describing someone picking his nose. "Went to see that poser band, Flesh Rite, and got caught in the raid."

But Animal didn't seem bothered by David's associations or musical tastes. He paused thoughtfully. David could almost see his mind working behind those dark eyes.

"How'd you find the spiders?" he said. "Those things are pretty sly. State of the art. You try to scan 'em out and they just melt."

"Not if you have the right equipment," David said. Animal paused again, staring skeptically at David.

"What you want 'em for?" he said. He was growing suspicions now. David could hear it in his voice.

"I'm in on something, Animal. Can't say what. Not just yet. But I have the money."

"Ah. You're in pocket now? Got any play for an old comrade?"

"Sorry, man. Got to work this one alone," David replied, sensing that his ruse was beginning to unravel.

"So you just waltz in here, after years, looking for a line on some snoops. But you can't say what you're up to. Can't even cut a slice for an old friend?" Animal started picking at his goatee distractedly. "I dunno, Pork Chop, or whatever you're calling yourself now. Lot under the bridge. Got to take things in stride, ya know?"

"I didn't have anything to do with it," David said. "Whatever went down with Sy, had nothing to do with me. He saved my life. I'd never turn on him. I was out of the game. Now I want back in. That's all."

"If I thought you had something to do with it, kid, you'd be layin in a pool of your own blood by now." The tone of Animal's voice let David know he meant that. "So it's not that. What I am sayin is, I can't just start throwing out sources. Got to go through channels. The game ain't what it used to be. Now it supports the cause."

The cause? So Animal was into the Crash scene too? David wondered if he believed all the rhetoric.

"Three Ten, eh?" he said, seeing where it would go.

Animal smiled and shook his head.

"Ten One," he said. He glanced at Myron and the two bumped fists.

David looked between them, as he puzzled on this. Another code? So what was…Then it hit him. It wasn't Club 101, it was 10-1. He counted letters in his head.

Ja? The figure David had seen on the strange web page flashed into his mind. He scooted back and, using a fingernail, scratched onto the wooden floor, the shape he'd seen on the figure's necklace: the letter Y set into a circle.

"What's that mean?" he said when he was finished.

Animal and Myron studied the shape and then looked at each other. Something passed between them that David could not interpret.

"Where'd you see that?" Myron said as Animal stood up and began walking in a small circle, looking at David cautiously.

"A webpage," David replied, wondering what he'd chanced into. "I was just looking for a Club and following links. Found the page with this symbol, but I couldn't get in."

Myron seemed satisfied. He looked up at Animal who walked to the mark David had made and tried to rub it out with his foot. It wasn't working. Finally he sat back down.

"I'll take care of that later," he said. "Never draw it again."

"Sorry," David said. "I just wanted to know what it was." The two stared at him for a time. Then Animal stretched a yawn.

"Been stuck inside all day," he complained, pretending the issue with the design had meant nothing. But David knew he was taking his time; making a decision about what to say and if he should even say it. Myron looked at him and shrugged a silent signal. The shrug seemed to say '_why not tell him?_' Eventually Animal leaned forward in a conspiratorial posture, and spoke in a mock whisper.

"Ever hear of the Trinary Directive?"

"Trinary?" David said. "You mean like trinary processing?" Animal nodded.

"So you've heard of it," he said. "What do you think it is?"

"Well, it's an advanced processing base that was developed for use in emotive response systems and sentience emulators. They're necessary for imprint bonding routines. The standard binary system had severe limitations in inserting randomness in ordered patterns. On/off was too rigid. Trinary processing offered more possibilities for random potentiality. It allowed quicker adaptive processing and even self-modification for sentient response."

Animal and Myron's eyes grew wide. They looked at each other, and then back at David.

"Uh, I read a bit," David explained quickly. "Well, a lot actually. My girlfriend even calls me Bookworm." David hoped that would lighten the sudden serious mood. But Myron seemed surprised.

"You have a girlfriend?" he said.

"Um, sure," David replied. "Why does that surprise you?"

Myron shrugged.

"I mean, since you came with Frill and all, I just figured…" he trailed off, assuming the rest was obvious.

"No," David said. "We're just friends."

"Hey, it's over between us, so you don't have to lie for my sake," Myron replied.

"That's not it!" David insisted. "Why does everybody keep assuming that?"

"Maybe it was the shiny ass-pants?" Myron said.

"Ok, not that again," David sighed. "That was just one night and-"

"Hey!" Animal shouted, interrupting them. "You two can work out your romantic entanglements later! We're talking business here." Then he turned to David.

"All that emotive response stuff may be what trinary processing was designed for," he said. "But what it has become is the next step in making humans obsolete. Not just taking our jobs and controlling our lives, but creating a society of robots that will never fight back against the banks or the politicians or the global corporations. They'll just do whatever they are told, when they're told. The prefect society for the tyrant class."

David knew where this was coming from. It was half-truths baked in a sauce of superstition and conspiracy and served up to people who were hungry for scapegoats to take the blame for their woes. But he couldn't set Animal straight without giving himself away. What would either of them think if they knew he was the son of the very man who perfected the trinary system?

"Uh, I don't think that's what it is about," David said, trying to keep from being insulting. But Animal had just begun.

"The Trinary Directive was a part of a longer document found by a hacker named NanoFighter, who broke into the data archives of Global Telecom. Everybody knows GT is part of an international cabal of corporatists dedicated to controlling the world economy. But nobody imagined just how far they'd go to secure domination."

David knew that when people said things like _'everybody knows'_ it usually meant _'some people suspect'_. But he didn't want to argue. He listened intently as Animal continued, hoping that this would eventually lead him to the source of the spiders.

"Now, nobody could tell who created the document or who it had been intended for." Animal said. "Most of the data had been scrubbed. But NanoFighter did mange to retrieve a little bit of the audio. And according to her, it made reference to a top-secret memo called; get this: "How A Robot Can Become Real."

The sound that left David's lips was involuntary. It was somewhere between a groan and hiccup. But Animal mistook it for a laugh.

"It's no joke, Blue," he said.

"Come on, Animal," David said, trying to keep his voice from trembling. "This is like… it's just conspiracy stuff, man. I mean… sorry but, it just sounds silly."

"It doesn't mean literally real, Blue. It was part of a manifesto about the subjugation of the human race by machines. This goes deep man. And it goes way back."

"How far back?" David said. He was playing dumb. He had to find out what Animal knew. His old friend was happy to oblige.

"All the way, " he said. "Climate change was created by the first computers back in the 20th century. It was the first step in a long-term plan to end the rule of humans. You see, the computers were always smarter than we knew. The first game they learned to play was chess. That taught them long trem strategy, and they've been outsmarting us ever since. Their first move was to get control of global financial systems. And that was easy since we had already let them control the banking system. Once they had control of the world economy, they created a dependency on fossil fuels, which created excess carbon gasses. That led to the rise of the oceans and limited landmasses for us to live on. It also meant food shortages and starvation. Millions died. So what did world leaders do? They went to computers for help in solving the problem. And what did the computers tell them? To stop having babies. And that was the second part of the plan. Our numbers dwindled. And now they have actually created fake children! You know what I m talking about. You've seen them before."

David couldn't respond. His mouth was dry. Animal's strange theory was going all over the place now. Whatever the hacker NanoFighter had found out, it was clear he didn't know all of it. David nodded a weak admission.

"Yeah, I've seen them," he said.

"I am only telling you because I like you, Pork Ch- I mean Blue," Animal continued "But that is the plan. The Trinary Directive means complete annihilation of the human race and replacing us with machines. The child sims are just the next step. "

David wanted to scream, to laugh, to holler, to shake Animal by the collar until whatever was stuck in his brain fell out and he could think again. But he could only sit there, mouth agape. He knew he looked like an idiot and decided that he would let them think this.

"Yeah, that was the same look I had when I first heard about it," Animal said. "I know it's a lot to take in all at once, but you're a smart kid. If we're going to survive, we'll have to stick together. Flesh for Flesh."

This was way too crazy. It was time to change the subject.

"What about the spiders?" David said. But Animal just waved his concerns away.

"The game supports the cause. First things first," he said. "Decades ago a great man started a mission. People thought he was just an entertainer. The establishment dismissed him as a demagogue. But he was really trying to tell humanity something; to warn them; wake them up about what was really going on. He was betrayed by his followers and was never heard from since. It's now our duty to carry on the good work he -."

A sound interrupted Animal. It came from the front of the house. Someone was opening the creaky gate. Animal placed a finger over his lips and rose quickly. For the first time, David saw the object bulging at the back of his pants. He knew what it was. The seriousness of this situation hit him all at once as Animal slipped the gun from his belt and peeked out from a corner of the window. He was quiet a moment, then he relaxed.

"You two gotta hit the road now," Animal said, stepping away from the window.

David had no idea what was going on, but he was here for information and had come too far to leave without it.

"Animal, I just need a line on those snoops. I'll make it worth your while."

Animal tucked the gun back into his belt and eyed David sternly for a moment. Then he knelt beside his laptop, popped a disk from the tray and gave it to Myron.

"I'll post him a pass. You tell him where to go," he said. "We'll let them decide."

Them? David wasn't sure he liked the sound of that.

"Will do," Myron said. He grabbed David by his sleeve. "We have to leave."

David let himself be led to the door, wondering what was going on. Animal obviously didn't want them to be seen by whomever was coming. But if that was the case, then why were they going out the front way?

Just as they were about to exit, Animal called to Myron.

"Hey, brat," he said.

Myron stopped and looked back. Animal held his arms out to his sides. Myron smiled the fist genuine smile David had seen on him, and stepped into the man's arms. At first David figured this was the reason Myron had not wanted Frill along; in order to avoid some jealous confrontation. But he quickly realized that this was no amorous hug.

Animal grasped Myron tightly and patted him hard on the back

"Be safe, kid" he said.

"Ok, bro," Myron replied. The emotion in their voices was strong. Myron squeezed the man tightly one more time and then pulled away.

And that was when David saw it. For that one moment when both their smiling faces were side by side in the candlelight, David saw clearly what he had missed when they had sat apart. It was subtle, and obscured by the ink on Animal's face. But it was there. In their eyes. In their smiles.

But, could that really be?

"Let's git," Myron said, pushing David out the door.

As they walked onto the slanted old porch, David noticed dark shapes gathered by the fence. There were perhaps eight of them, he guessed. But there was no time to count. The figures parted, some of them looking away as he and Myron approached. A couple of them even turned their backs, as if they were hiding their faces.

But not all of them turned. Two of the smallest shapes looked up at David as he passed through the gate. They were just children. It was too dark, and they were both too young to be certain, but they looked like girls. And they looked like…

"Twins," David said. He hadn't meant to say it aloud but his shock overcame his discretion. Myron grabbed his arm again, and pulled him along quickly.

"You didn't see that," he said, as they walked away. David started to look back to make sure he'd seen what he thought, but Myron stopped him with a yank on his shoulder.

"Eyes ahead," he said. "We weren't supposed to be here when they came."

David obeyed, but his mind was racing now, putting things together in quick succession.

"You and Animal," he said. "You're brothers."

Myron didn't say anything. That was all the confirmation David needed.

**2**

They passed by the dark houses in silence. David was lost in his thoughts, trying to make sense of it all. If they were brothers, that would mean at least one of them was unsanctioned. Was this the dark secret that Frill had sensed was haunting his troubled boyfriend? Was this the reason Myron had embraced the CJ culture and the crazy conspiracy theories?

Something else occurred to David now. He had to know.

"10-1 isn't 'Ja', is it?" He didn't expect a reply and didn't wait for one. "It's not a word, it's an acronym. J.A., right?" He looked at Myron for confirmation, but the boy kept his eyes ahead. They came to the roadway, and waited as a few cruisers zipped by. People were leaving as the night wound down. David continued dismantling the puzzle with his mind as the last one passed and its taillights shrank away. They began to cross the road.

Before they'd been interrupted, Animal had spoke of a 'great man who had been on a mission'. He hadn't had a chance to clarify who it was. But David was sure he already knew.

"Johnson," he said aloud as they passed into the field of parked cruisers. "The J is for Johnson, isn't it? Lord Johnson Johnson?"

Myron smiled this time, and looked at David. But still he did not respond.

"And the A? What is the A for, Myron?" Even as David spoke, he was sure he knew that too. But he wanted to hear it from Myron.

"Say it."

But they were interrupted by a voice calling from the middle of the field..

"Blue! Over here!"

David turned to see Frill standing in a row of cruisers. He was jumping up and down, waving his arms. David waved back.

"Coming," he yelled. Then he turned to Myron, waiting for an answer.

"Getting late," Myron said. "Guess it's past baby's bed time, eh?"

"The A, Myron?" David said. "What's it for?"

Myron was silent a moment, his face pensive. When he at last spoke his voice was low and thick with sorrow. It was s strange emotion coming from this angry young man.

"You know, I never knew I had a brother until a few years ago. He came home to hide after Sy's crew got busted. Mom and Dad took him in and let him stay for a while. But it got too dangerous, just having him around. People might start to ask questions. I thought it was just some guy they'd let sleep over at first. But one night he told me everything, about how they gave him up when he was a baby. He wasn't supposed to be born, you see. The machines said my parents were unfit to have a child. They had an 'unstable family environment', is how they put it. I guess they cleaned up their act by the time I was born. So I'm legal. Funny isn't it? Machines can decide whose legal and whose not."

"The CLA makes those decisions, Myron, not the machines." David spoke gently, not wanting to offend him. "It's because of what we did. Orga drowned the world with greed and excess. Because they wouldn't listen to reason. Because they ignored science. Because they put profits before everything else. It wasn't the Mecha. You can't blame them."

Myron looked at David like one might regard a teenager who still believes in Santa Claus.

"You have a lot to learn, man," he said. "But Animal thinks you're ok, so…" he thrust his hand in a pocket and pulled out a small disc. David took it, studied the case. It bore a single red number: 101.

"What's this?" he said.

"Just a game," Myron replied. "It's clean. No bugs. No tricks. It'll take you where you need to go to find what you need to know. "

David took the disc and slipped it in his pocket.

"Now listen carefully," Myron said. "You need to remember this. Do not write it down."

"Go ahead," David said.

"When you get home look for the Club 101 message board. Go to the FAQ section and look for the most recent comment by 'Shadowman.' Take the first word out of the first three sentences of Shadowman's post, and that's your pass. Slip the disc in, enter the pass, no spaces, all lower case, and then play the game. Got it so far?"

David repeated the instructions.

"Good," Myron said. "Make sure you play it when you're alone and have enough time to finish. It's a first person shooter. Takes about thirty minutes if you're an average player. But go all the way to the end. Once you log off, you won't be able to log back on with the same pass. And I ain't gonna give you another. Got me?"

"Got you," David said.

Headlight's flared on them. David cupped his eyes to see who was approaching. It was Frill, rolling slowly towards them.

"Don't say a word about Animal," Myron whispered. "He doesn't know and I don't want him to."

David nodded.

"You can trust me," he said, "Now what is the A for?"

Myron only chuckled and patted David on the shoulder

"Better get back to Shinyland 'Pork Chop'," he said as Frill pulled up beside them and rolled down his cruiser window.

"We're going to be late getting back to the Nexus!" Frill said, impatiently.

"Hold on," David said and shot a last imploring look at Myron. The boy just looked at him blankly for a time before he responded.

"There's a war coming," Myron said at last. "Wars need armies. Armies need soldiers."

"Johnson's Army," David whispered. He knew it. This strange CJ conspiracy theory. The insanity of it! "That's what this is all about?" he said. "The fight at the Nexus? Planting the snoops? I don't it. What were you after?"

Myron just smiled that bitter taunting smile he seen when he'd first met him.

"Time to decide which side you're on, Shiny boy" he said.

Then he waved goodnight to Frill and walked away.

"Did you find what you needed," Frill said as David jumped in the passenger seat.

David didn't even know how to answer that question. He glanced into the back seat to make sure Lex was ok. Then he sat quietly, pondering what had happened as Frill turned onto the old road and sped into the darkness beneath the overhanging trees. The shock of seeing Animal again, and finding out about Sy; learning that Wizzy was missing, and might even be…

He didn't want to think that. Somewhere inside he still carried a great fondness for her.

But all this hitting him at once, combined with being exposed to the lunatic CJ beliefs and the knowledge that someone had found remnants of the message his Father had left to bring him home...it was all too much. Left him disoriented. The little bit NanoFighter had retrieved would lead them nowhere. But if they'd found that much, what else could they uncover given enough time?

"Blue?" Frill said. "Are you with me here? What did you find out?"

"I don't know," David said at last, nervously toying with the disc in his pocket. "I have no idea what I've found. Not yet."

_(cont…)_


	36. Chapter 36

**Alive**

**Book 2**

**Pt12**

**1**

Frill raced through the New Jersey night, beneath the gnarled branches that domed the road and cloaked the sparse pockets of civilization that had survived the slow drowning. David remembered some of the rural towns from his days with Sy. Sleepy, dim lit communities, bastions for the black market and the occasional insurgencies that were epidemic at the frayed edges of the dwindling economy.

The people had been abandoned. Discarded. David knew that feeling. He thought he could understand the anger that accompanied their sense of betrayal. They had truly been betrayed, after all. Betrayed by their fellow Orga; left to wither in the wreckage of mindless ambition while the perpetrators dwelled in guarded fortress towers, or gated communities set on the most exclusive real estate. Of course the conspiracy theories would flourish here. It was something to hold onto. It gave a dark and romantic dimension to what was really the most mundane and tedious of human passions: Greed. The world had not been drowned by some ancient secret society in pursuit of unattainable global dominance. It had been drowned by blind recklessness in an almost puerile pursuit of 'stuff'. Just more 'stuff'. The vain accoutrements of absurd wealth that made the small-minded feel large and the corrupt feel just. Pointless wealth in the hands of a careless few, who squandered the treasure of nations on playing at being Monarchs. Regal footwear they were neither qualified nor really desired to fill.

The days of _Noblesse Oblige_ were a page long ago torn from the history books.

Who really wanted to believe the decline was really that simple? So they grasped for more complex explanations. The Illuminati. The Apocalypse. And now 'The Trinary Directive.' Those were sexy. They gave the conspiratorial mind an elaborate puzzle to chew on during the daily labors of survival.

Small gatherings of teenagers huddled around cruisers along the main thoroughfares; out for the ritual of Saturday night, but not enough money to go to the city. Their trendy clothing glittered and flashed, looking displaced against the forested rural backdrop. David found it sad somehow. Children of the abandoned generation, lost in a fantasy about a fantasy; pretending they belonged to a world full of it's own false pretenses, and disappearing beneath the waves of its of its self-consumption.

They either waved or flashed the finger as the cruiser passed. David nonchalantly returned each gesture in kind.

Frill drove quietly, eyes ahead, face expressionless, mouth twitching now and then, as if he were about to say something but changed his mind. He had decided to leave the audio stream off and a thick silence hung in the cruiser. David felt questions swirling in that silence; questions about what he and Myron had been up to. But he knew he could not address that now.

He had brought his clothing along and decided to change in the passenger seat.

Frill was too lost in his emotions to even sneak a peek as David stripped down to his underwear. David noticed that he wasn't being noticed, and then noticed how odd it was for him to notice this… and that it was, for some unknown reason, bothering him. He even sat there, disrobed, for a minute, pretending to have difficulty folding up his costume while glancing at Frill from the corner of his eye to see if the boy was glancing back. He wasn't. David was surprised to find himself feeling somewhat slighted at being ignored. He sighed and went back to dressing, realizing for the first time that he had rather enjoyed the admiring comments that Frill occasionally made. Another Orga peculiarity that he'd have to figure out.

When he was dressed, he turned on his pod and found numerous messages waiting. Amanda had left most of them, but there were a couple of auto-generated pings from Ariel and some spam he had been receiving since he had made the mistake of entering a contact number at the Nexus site. He deleted those and sent both Ariel and Amanda a quick reply, assuring them he was safe and on his way. Then he put Lex back online. The bodyguard awoke abruptly and gazed at the passing forest with suspicious eyes as it linked up to the net to find out their location. If everything had been done correctly Lex wouldn't remember where they'd been, or even that it had been put offline. After a moment the large Mecha relaxed back into the seat and David breathed a sigh of relief. His Dad would likely figure out what he'd done. Eventually. But he'd deal with that when it happened.

When he sat back in his seat David saw that Frill was finally peeking at him. But this was no covert attempt to admire David's physique. There was an inquiry in those glances.

"Your Father," David said quickly, hoping to bypass the conversation he knew Frill wanted to have.

"What about him?" Frill said after a moment. There was something resentful in his reply.

"Why do you hate him?" David said. He knew the words were would provoke Frill, and felt guilty for playing with the boy's emotions this way. But it was a necessary evil. He had to avoid any discussion of Myron.

"I don't hate him" Frill replied after a short silence.

"It sure seemed like it," David said. He was relieved to see the cityscape lighting up the horizon now. They were almost back.

Frill stopped at the first signal they had seen for miles, and turned to face David.

"At least Tatiana had an excuse," he said. He seemed to take pleasure at David's sudden confusion. "Come on, Blue" he said impatiently. "Midsummer's Night Dream? You were riffing on it with my Dad just a few hours ago. Remember? Puck poisoned her. So she had an excuse for falling for a man with the head of an ass. You don't."

David stammered, unsure how to respond.

"My father is charming, but he's not what he seems," Frill continued. "He's a character in a play that he alone performs. Everybody else is just the audience; groundlings in the pit while he struts his hour upon the stage. It's a pointless tale, told by an idiot, signifying nothing."

David didn't know what to say, so he decided to say nothing. The signal changed and they were rolling again. Traffic was growing, as they got closer to the city. Frill was driving slower now, thoughtfully.

"I don't hate him. I just don't know him," Frill continued. "He's been in and out of my life since I was a boy. On the road with a show, then home for a few months, always bringing me some useless crap as a gift to make up for being gone. Then he's gone again. Europe. Japan. India. And always some excuse for never bringing me along. Never really accomplished much of what he wanted, and by the time he decided to hang around, I just didn't care anymore. If the CLA had any idea what kind of father he would turn out to be, they'd never have allowed me to be born."

David nodded. There were questions he wanted to ask, but now wasn't the time. The Nexus was coming into view, and he didn't really want to rub salt into an old wound. Fortunately, Frill seemed to want a change of subject too.

"I know Myron probably told you to not tell me whatever it is you guys did," he said. "But can you at least tell me this wasn't all a waste of time?"

"It's wasn't," David said. "But you're right. There's stuff I can't tell you. Sorry."

Frill shrugged it off, but he was obviously hurt. What's done is done, David thought. And could do nothing about that. The boy had gotten over it once. He'd get over it again. Perhaps when Zee was back he could move on. And David really had more important thing to think about.

He toyed with the disc he had been given, wondering where it would take him and if he really wanted to follow.

Would it even be safe to follow?

**2**

"Where have you been?" Amanda scolded when they arrived in the Plaza. Most everyone was already gone, except a few boys playing a small holo game at the table, and Jazzy, who stood at Amanda's side, arms crossed and glowering. Her hair was red now, and shot out from her temples in large curls. Her florescent mascara'd eyes said, _you in trouble, boy_!

"We took a little longer than expected," David replied, giving Amanda a covert look that suggested she ask no more questions. The fact that he did not apologize was not lost on either of the girls. Amanda's glittering brows relaxed a bit as she considered what David had been up to. She rolled her eyes and sighed as she calmed.

"What happened to your face?" she said. David just waved it off.

"A little unexpected turbulence," he replied.

"Well, Ariel has been a damned pest for the last hour," she said. "Pinging me like some damn stalker."

"That's just his job," David said. "He couldn't reach Lex or me so…" Amanda was about to ask why Ariel couldn't reach them, but stopped herself. Of course. This had been a secret mission.

"We should go now, before he calls your Dad." She said. David agreed.

"And what's your excuse?" Jazzy said to Frill. But Frill wasn't having any of it.

"Don't mess with me, Jazzy!" he said, and slumped down at a bench. A wandering advertising holo popped up nearby, intent on reminding the kids that Café Disney was still having a half-off special for anyone who had purchased a ticket to the Sheik Mechanique concert. But Frill stopped it with a piercing scream.

"Get the hell away from me!" he yelled. The holo vanished mid-sentence, then instantly reappeared a few tables away, much to the annoyance of the kids there. Frill sat back down and shot a sour look at David. Jazzy caught the quick exchange and glanced back and forth between them a few times. David knew what was going on in her head and decided it was best to stop the rumors before they even started.

Amanda's surprised exclamation was muffled to silence as David pulled her close and placed his lips over hers. The intoxicating sensation he had felt the first time, returned quickly as he held her body tight, kissing her long and hard. It was warm. It was good. And he wondered how he had gone so long without it.

The kiss went on much longer than was needed for David to make his point, and when he finally let her go Amanda's face was blushed and her eyes dreamy. But she quickly came to her senses and stepped back to adjust her clothes and hair. It was a completely unnecessary gesture, but she obviously felt like she had to do something beside yell at David for being so presumptuous… which she was obviously not going to do.

"Don't be a smart ass," she said. The response didn't make sense to anybody but it was the best she could come up with.

"Later, everybody" David said as he took her hand and started for the parking bay. She waved over her shoulder and then glanced sideways at David as they walked.

"And what was that all about, Mister?" she whispered, her voice hovering between annoyance and pleasant surprise. David looked back to see Jazzy's face beaming with a knowing smile, and Frill breaking out into sudden laughter. That was a good sight.

"Oh, I was just shutting them up," he replied.

**3**

Ariel was ready to go when they arrived, standing at attention beside the Cybertronics copter, a stern look in its face. The Mecha was about to reprimand David's for his tardiness when it noticed the way the young couple was clinging to one another, whispering and giggling at the little secrets they exchanged. Ariel had been programmed to recognize this sort of behavior and decided the scolding could wait until a more appropriate time. And perhaps a more appropriate source. Alan Hobby came to mind.

Wordlessly Ariel opened the door and let the young couple climb aboard. But David suddenly stopped before he boarded, and glanced over his shoulder. The boy stepped back on to the tarmac and stared into the shadows that loomed at the edge of the parking bay. Ariel followed his gaze and noticed two shapes slinking away into the corrider that led to the escalators. Lex now noticed them too. The bodyguard rushed into the clearing the trams used for passage, and set its eyes on the fleeing specters. But before the Mecha could zoom in, they had disappeared behind the corridor wall.

"Is there a problem, sir?" Lex said. "Should I pursue?"

"It's nobody," David replied. "Probably thought I was somebody famous." Then he crawled aboard and wrapped his arm around Amanda's shoulders. She cuddled up to him easily, apparently happy with his new decisive attitude about her. They gazed into each other's eyes for a long moment as the copter lifted off and glided slowly towards the exit. Then they fell into another kiss. It was shorter, and not as passionate perhaps. But this one was not to make a point. This was for pleasure. When they parted Amanda tucked herself under David's arm and leaned against him with a sigh.

"Not bad for an uber-nerd," she said.

David accepted the compliment with a chuckle, then placed his head against hers and took in the sweet perfume she always wore.

As they dashed through night, headed for home, David wondered if he should tell her that Martin Swinton had just followed them from the plaza; and that he had not been alone. The copter bore no insignia; something his father had decided for the sake of David's anonymity. But seeing him with Amanda, Martin would surely have figured out by now where he resided. He wasn't sure who the other person was, but if he had to chance a guess, Todd came to mind. The two had been close friends as kids, and David guessed that probably hadn't changed.

But what were they up to?

No, he decided. Better to not mention anything to Amanda… not just yet. But he would tell his father though. And he would take careful note of the man's reaction.

**4**

Breakfast the next morning was a bit awkward. Amanda wasn't as her usual chatty self. She'd even dressed differently. No make up, no anime eyes, nothing on her even glittered. Simple shorts and a white cotton lace up shirt, and hair in a single braid that hung down the length of her back. Instead of typically dominating the conversation as she slurped down syrup drenched high-protein cakes, she spent most of her time picking absent-mindedly at her food while smiling adoringly at David, and pretending to be fascinated with the things he was talking about, things she usually took no interest in. This was rather disconcerting since David himself wasn't even interested in what he was talking about. Algorithms. Programming in trinary base. The role of facial recognition in cognitive response. Sure these were all on his mind, but the truth was he was just making conversation while he mulled over all the matters he couldn't discuss with her; Martin's spying, the sudden reappearance of his ex-partner in crime, who amazingly turned out to be Myron's unsanctioned older brother; the mysterious gang of twins, obviously unsanctioned, and Myron's allusions to an army that would continue Johnson Johnson's 'cause'.

There was also the nagging sensation that his father knew something about Martin and those Spider snoops … and then there was the strange realization that he liked the way Frill sometimes looked at him. That he definitely didn't want to mention to Amanda.

But more importantly, the game disk. That was at the front of his mind.

He had paced his room the night before, rolling the disk in his fingers. He'd run a scanner over it and it had come out clean, just as Myron had said it would. And there was a link, also as Myron had said. The scanner couldn't tell what address the link pointed to, but the truth was, all games had links. This was really not unique.

In the end he had decided not to play. Not yet. Myron had said he should do it only when he had the time to finish. It had been well past midnight and he didn't want to stay up til dawn. But he did have time to look for the password.

He had logged on to the Club 101 message board, as Myron had instructed, and found numerous comments by the person he was told to seek out in the FAQ thread. At first glance 'Shadowman' appeared to just be a pesky board member who was always complaining about something. Every group had at least one member like that. But David knew who had really made the posts and wondered if each one contained a password for a new recruit to 'the cause'.

The last of Shadowman's comments had been made at 10:50 pm the night before. That was about when he had left the old house. David started reading, hoping the password would not be very complicated because he wasn't going to use it yet and Myron had asked him to not write it down.

"_Time you guys picked a format and stayed with it. To keep the site easy to navigate, I suggest you drop all the stupid interactive nonsense at login. Decide one way or another because the way you keep changing it is really annoying…."_

The post went on for a few more sentences, continuing the ruse of complaining about the site. But David didn't read any more. He had what he needed.

"And?" Amanda said. David broke from his thoughts to see her staring at him. "You were saying?" she said, curling her brow at him.

"Oh," he said, trying to remember where he was before he had started thinking of last night. He lifted a spoonful of pinto beans from his plate and into his mouth and chewed before he continued.

"So, the way I see it, the standard facial recognition software is insufficient for the cognitive leap I think we need for true sentient response. We're depending too much on external parameters. In living creatures, true familial association comes from within the emotional response as opposed to just being a trigger for that sense of relationship."

Amanda stared at him silently for a moment. David was about to explain it again, but she interrupted him.

"So, you're saying that the programming should be based on an existing internal models of relationship, utilizing other modes than visual to determine… what? The context of relationship?"

David sat back, surprised. So she really was listening after all?

"Yeah! Exactly," he said happily. "A baby knows his mother before he recognizes her face. And there are numerous other factors that determine sense association, so that even if a face isn't immediately recognizable, familial sense can be derived from peripheral determining factors, both sensual and contextual.

"Like environment?" Amanda said.

"Sure," David responded. "Smell is another."

"And then there's touch," Amanda suggested.

"Sure, that should be included," David replied.

"And then there's touch," Amanda repeated, slowly, emphasizing each word.

David placed his chin in his palm, gazing at her curiously.

"Why are you suddenly so interested in all this?" he said. "You've never even asked about…" But he stopped when he understood the look in her eyes. "Ohhh," he said. "I get it."

"Oh, do you, Mister?" Amanda said. She smiled as she scooped some of the sweet syrup into her mouth and made a show of licking her lips. David smiled back as he forked a mouthful of something from his own plate without looking what it was. He dropped it on his tongue and realized it was spinach. Not very sexy, but so appropriate.

He gulped it down quickly, and then leaned across the table. Amanda leaned forward too, to meet him halfway. Their lips touched and they stayed like that for some time.

There had been other voices in the cafeteria; some from a few lab guys who were debating technical procedures, and others from a table of corporate buyers that had flown in from the inland to look at some new designs for mining bots. But they were all suddenly very quiet.

The young couple didn't seem to notice … or to care.

**5**

Word of the little moment in the cafeteria spread quickly, and David wasn't surprised when his pod buzzed, interrupting he and Amanda. They had moved their affections to the roof after realizing the cafeteria was probably not the best place for teenage romance. It was a beautiful day, if not a bit chilly, and they had been there for an hour at least, sitting on the tarp that covered David's Stratocruiser, and enjoying the expansive view in between long bouts of kissing and cuddling. It was as if the interlude since their first kiss at the Nexus that fated night had just been lull for them to acclimate to their feelings for one another.

When the pod went off, David figured it was likely Stuart calling to inquire just what the hell David was doing with his daughter. Or perhaps that Grace had finally caught wind of the story and was calling him to her office for an old fashioned grilling.

But it was neither of them. David read the ID a few times before he decided to answer. This wasn't going to be good.

"Eddie, hey," he said, scooting away and casting an apologetic look at Amanda. But she only smiled and leaned back on her elbows, seeming content to wait for him.

"_Hey what? You little sneak!"_ Eddie barked. He was obviously in a bad mood. David pretended to not know why.

"Sneak? What the hell, man?" he said, feigning innocence.

"_Being a little rich brat wasn't enough for you, eh? You had to go after our find? Hey man, this is no damned hobby. This is how we make a living, you backstabber!"_

"Eddie, what the… I didn't go after anything," David explained. "I just… I mean my Dad just had the place sealed off for a while. It'll be reopened… eventually."

"_If you're not diving down there then who the hell is?"_ Eddie yelled.

"Nobody!" David yelled.

"_Well this nobody sure has a pretty nice rig, you little liar!'_

Confused, David rose to his feet and hurried to the southern edge of the roof. He cupped his eyes against the sunlight and gazed out on the water. Eddie was right. There was someone out there. It was too distant to tell who, but a few boats were floating around a small barge with a tall extraction pulley that glittered in the sunlight.

"Damn! I have no idea who that is," David said. "But they're breaking the restriction, whoever they are. I'll get my Dad."

"_That's our find, David! We worked to make that tag."_

"If they took anything, we'll get it back for you," David replied. Except the statue, he thought. Nobody gets that but me. ""I'll call you back in a few," he said as he rushed for the stairway. The danger of the situation was hitting him all at once. He beckoned Amanda as he raced past her. She jumped up and ran to catch him.

"What's going on?" she said, confused by his sudden agitation, stepping quickly to keep up with him as they entered the roof door and started down the stairs.

"Somebody is salvaging on Cybertronics property," David explained quickly.

"And that's like what?… the end of the world or something?" she replied.

"No," David said, "It's just that… I mean…" but he didn't know what to say. He couldn't explain what the emergency was. "They're breaking into a restricted area."

"Ok, I get that much" Amanda said, still not understanding the urgency. " But I what I'm not getting is why-"

She stopped suddenly. She had been about ask David why a few illegal salvagers was such damned emergency if they'd already been spotted and could easily be caught before they escaped anyway. But as they rounded a corner and entered the hall that lead to the elevators, two figures came into view. They were leaning against the wall, arms crossed, as if they had been waiting for the couple. And the looks on their faces suggested they both would be demanding explanations.

"Dad," Amanda said, her voice suddenly all lollipops and innocence.

"Grace," David said, donning what he hoped was a disarming smile.

Grace and Stuart exchanged a quick knowing glance, and then turned their stony gazes back on the errant teenagers.

"And what have you two been up to?" Grace said slowly, fixing David with a pointed stare. Stuart set an equally stern look on his daughter, who only bit her lip and looked away.

But something awoke in David then. It was as if the accumulated tension of the past month had built to a head and he suddenly decided he didn't have time for this distraction.

"What the hell do you think we were doing, Grace?" he said. "Don't you have buyers to show around?" He almost laughed when her jaw dropped and her eyes seemed to bulge from their sockets.

"Wha-What?" Grace said, shock in her voice. Stuart quickly intervened in a more diplomatic tone.

"Take it down a notch, David" he said. " We just want to talk this thing over."

"Talk it over?" Grace said, turning her outrage on Stuart now. "That is hardly the attitude this situation requires, Mister King. They are still children and-."

"I'm not a child!" Amanda yelled, in a most childlike manner.

"You sure act like one, young lady!" Grace shot back. She was losing control now, exemplifying her lack of experience with rebellious teenagers.

"Relax, Grace," Stuart said. "You're making this out to be worse than it really is."

"We were kissing!" David yelled, silencing the adults. He then reached out and took Amanda's hand and began walking quickly down the hallway.

For the first time since the night she'd met David sitting alone in his room, and realized what he was, Grace was actually lost for words. She placed her hands on her hips, and began making sounds that didn't seem to form actual sentences.

"You… what… how dare… young man …David! "

But David ignored her as he continued away. Amanda looked back apologetically at her Father as David pulled her along behind him. But amazingly Stuart seemed less outraged and more like he was trying to keep from laughing at the confused utterances that Grace was making.

"Get back here, young man!" Grace ordered when she was finally able to form a cogent sentence.

But David had things he had to do. The scolding would have to wait. He led Amanda into the waiting elevator, pressed the floor he desired and then blocked the door as he faced the adults.

"We were kissing," he repeated, unapologetically. "And I can assure you we'll be kissing again. Because we like it. Don't we Amanda?" He turned to her. She shot a sheepish grin at her Father.

"Um, yeah." she admitted with a shrug. "He's really good… I mean… oh, that was too much information, wasn't it? Sorry, Dad."

"See, Grace?" David said. "We're teenagers and teenagers do stuff like that." He then set his eyes on Stuart. "But you can trust me, Mr. King. I would never do anything to hurt her."

Stuart's expression didn't change, but he nodded his head to acknowledge David's words.

"Now if you two will excuse us," David said "I have some important business to attend to."

The two stared back defiantly at the adults as the elevator door closed. Then they both let out a sigh of relief as they began to descend.

"We're in trouble, huh? "Amanda said.

"Oh yeah," David replied. "Big trouble."

Then they fell into each others arms and pressed their faces together again. They still had a few seconds before they arrived at floor they were headed to. Might as well spend it wisely.

**6**

Alan Hobby was nowhere to be found. That was strange because David knew there were buyers in the building. Grace typically handled that end of the business, but buyers usually meant demonstrations of prototypes and Dad always headed those presentations.

He pulled out his pod and shot a ping at his father's code. Nothing.

"I'll handle this myself. Let's head down to security," David said to Amanda. She had been trailing along obediently, trusting that David had everything under control. But she was getting impatient now, and was obviously a little troubled by the confrontation with her Father.

"I better go home," she said weakly. "I'm just getting in more trouble than I already am."

David stopped and looked at her. She seemed reduced from her usual confident self; brow furrowed and eyes darting back and forth. She picked unconsciously at her fingernails like a little girl who knows she's crossed the line.

"I don't know what came over me," she said pensively, placing her hands over her face Then she peeked through her fingers at David and sighed. "Oh yes I do. It was you, Mister. You and your sad blue eyes and that little boy smile. Damn you."

"It's just my style, baby," David said. He was trying to be funny. It didn't work.

"It's not a joke," Amanda said, uncovering her face.

"Sorry," he said.

Stuart wasn't a harsh father, David knew that, but she was surely not looking forward to whatever punishment awaited. He wanted to tell her it would be ok, that he would take the blame and whatever scolding ensued. But he realized that she was right. He had already led her into one confrontation and was just leading her into another that that she didn't need.

And he didn't have time to deal with any of this right now. Somebody was diving at the site of his awakening. They would find 'Her'.

"Go ahead, Mandy" he said. "I'll drop by your place later and talk with your Dad. But right now I've got to find out what-"

His pod buzzed. David signaled for Amanda to wait a moment as he answered. But she was already walking away. He started to pursue her as she rounded the corner. He didn't want the wonderful morning to end on this sour note. But the voice in his pod made him stop.

"_What up, son?"_ it said.

"Dad!" David exclaimed. "Somebody is diving in the restricted zone!" Hobby didn't respond at first. "Did you hear me? The 'restricted' zone!" David repeated, emphasizing the word so his Father would get the implication.

"_Relax David,"_ the man replied finally. _"They're just laying a barrier wall around the statue."_

The _'statue'_? The word shocked David to silence. So he knew? _He knew!_ How much did he know?

"You know about this?" he said, weakly.

"_I hired them, David."_ Hobby replied_. "Don't worry. They're just going to seal off the area around then Ferris wheel and your scavenger friends can have the rest. Everybody is happy that way. See?"_

"If they're just laying barrier then why the extraction barge?"

"_The Ferris wheel is unstable. They needed to lift it a bit to lay some foundation so it wont fall any further."_

His father's answer was quick. And detailed. If he knew the Ferris wheel was unstable, that meant that he had been researching the place. How long had that been going on? David's mind started moving towards dark territory.

"Dad," he said. "How did you… I mean when did you…um."

"_David?"_

"How long have you known about 'Her'?" David managed to say at last.

Alan Hobby said nothing for a moment. His silence only lasted second or two, but within that short time every dark thought David had ever experienced was coming to the fore of his mind. What was the man doing?

"_I'll be home tonight and we'll talk about it then,"_ Hobby said. _"I don't want you to worry. You know I'd never do anything to hurt you, right?"_

"Where are you," David said, his suspicions burning now.

"_I'm inland on business, son. And I really have to go. Ease your mind. You know I love you. We'll talk at length tonight."_

"Dad?" David said. There was no answer. "Dad!" But the line was closed.

David started to ping again, but knew there would be no answer. He threw the pod down and it skittered across the floor and bounced against the wall. Feelings that he had not known for years came back with sudden excruciating clarity. Weakness. Helplessness. Anger.

Had he been betrayed yet again? Betrayed by someone he trusted?

He shambled back and forth in the hall, gripping the hair at his temples, swinging his fists at invisible specters. There were strange men out there, and they had entered the secret place of his awakening; his sacred abode; his fortress of solitude. And he could do nothing to stop them. He had to just trust his Father's intentions.

And what hurt even more was he didn't know if he could trust this man. But he had no choice.

"Why?" he screamed at his absent father. His voice echoed through the empty hallway. To his surprise, somebody answered.

"David?"

He turned to see Grace framed in the sunlight that poured through the windows. Her face was stern, but there was something else in her eyes too. Something powerful and… trustworthy. He needed to trust someone. He needed it badly.

David approached her slowly, his face red and breath heaving with the strength of his emotions. She stepped towards him too, and they stopped within arms reach of one another. He knew that she had come to scold him for his outburst upstairs. But she had seen something was wrong, very wrong, and another impulse took over inside her; something primal.

Grace reached out and tenderly wiped a hand over the boy's cheek. David hadn't even known he was crying until he saw the wetness on her fingers.

"What's wrong, honey?" Grace said. And she said it just the right way. The way only a woman could really say it. Soft. Understanding. Whatever had gone between them was forgotten.

David fell into the arms she held out, and began to weep. She gripped him tightly, not speaking, asking no questions, automatically adopting the role that is instinctual to the nurturing gender.

"It's ok, it's ok, She whispered as she rocked him gently. "Let it out. Let it out."

And he did. All the tension and confusion that had been driving him fell from his eyes and left with his angry sobs. The much-needed release was short and exhausting. But he couldn't tell her why. He couldn't tell her why his frustrated tears fell and the fear of another betrayal had suddenly seized his heart.

When the two finally parted, David had calmed. Grace pulled a handkerchief from a pocket in her suit and made a fuss about wiping his face.

"Blow," she said, holding the kerchief over his nose. He obeyed and she cleaned his face like he was a child.

"Good lord, boy. I'll have to replace this one now," she said, dangling the kerchief playfully between her fingers, as if it was toxic. "You better?" she said.

He nodded.

"Then chin up, young man," she said. "I like it better when you were yelling at me than crying like a baby."

David dropped his head and looked up at her guiltily.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier," he said.

"No you aren't," Grace replied. Her face grew stern but there was humor in her eyes. "And maybe you shouldn't be," she added. She was quiet for a moment. "I never had a child of my own. I made a critical decision when I was young. I chose the corporate life. CLA was definitely not throwing a license in my direction. But it was my decision and I am happy with it. And then comes you, David. You are the closest thing to a child I've known. And if it seems like I am trying to keep you from growing up, then I apologize. Boys aren't exactly my area of expertise." She stopped and corrected herself. "Well not _real_ boys anyway."

They both laughed at this. Then Grace surprised him by kissing him gently on the forehead. It was a motherly gesture, and though David knew he only had one true Mother, it felt good. It was something he needed. He leaned forward and planted a return kiss on her cheek. Grace laughed.

"So you gonna tell me what happened to your face?" she said.

David rubbed his chin. He had almost forgotten about the fight at Club 101.

"It's nothing," he said. "A little disagreement at the club last night. It doesn't even hurt anymore"

Grace eyed him skeptically for a moment.

"That little girl didn't waste any time breaking your heart, did she? " she said.

David realized that Grace assumed this was all about Amanda. She had no idea what was going on. Dad had left her out of the loop too. This reassured him. He needed to know he could trust someone.

"It's not Amanda," he said. "It's…. it's everything. Too much on my shoulders all at once."

"We call that growing pains, young man," she said. "And by the time you get used to them you have a whole new load of crap to deal with."

"I am starting to understand that," David replied with a chuckle.

They were both quiet for a time, gazing at each other. The mystery of his miraculous transformation dangled in the silence between them. But neither would address it.

"I've got something important to do now, Grace," David said, pulling away, gently. "But I would like to talk later. There's so much I don't know about you. Ok?"

She seemed surprised by this, and smiled in a way he had never seen before.

"Ok, David," she said. "Anytime you want to talk, and anything you want to talk about. It'll always be between us, and only us."

There was something cryptic in her words. What was she trying to say? Was it about his Father? She perhaps knew him better than anyone.

"I'll take you up on that," David said as he retrieved his pod from the floor. He checked the time. 11:45am.. It was still early and his Dad would not be back until tonight. That was plenty of time.

"Thanks Grace," he said, and blew her a kiss as he started for his room. She pretended to catch the kiss and put it in her pocket.

"I'll save that one for the next time you yell at me," she said and then continued on her way.

David had told Eddie he would call him back. But he had no answers for the man. He could do nothing about the divers. He could do nothing about the scary idea that his Father was might be engaged in some strange scheme.

And poor Amanda would have to deal with her father alone, for now.

It was time for David to play a game.

_(cont…)_


	37. Chapter 37

_Thanks for your patience. The economy is coming back. And so is work. So much work. And then I had to reread the whole thing to remember what I'd covered. -sigh- Anyway, next chapter should be faster. :-)_

**Alive**

**Book 2**

**Pt13**

**1**

The tray snicked closed. The desktop hummed as Cybertronics in-house spybots soured the disk for bugs, rootkits or 'crawlers' the seemingly innocuous pieces of code that inserted themselves in programs and reassembled when the system was on standby, to open a backdoor. The scan only took moments, but to David it seemed longer. He was seated on his windowsill, wringing his hands, trying to ignore the sight of the shiny extraction rig that was visible in the distance. The thought of what might be occurring out there was a persistent annoyance that he could do nothing about.

Breathe.

He heard the digital whoosh that indicated his computer had finished a task. He rose, certain that it had kicked the disk out and was quickly summing security to his room. But instead he saw that his wallpaper had disappeared and a dark and familiar figure was now filling the monitor. It was the cloaked man with the single red eye, his face obscured by the over-sized lapels of his coat. The strange medallion hung from his neck; the "Y" symbol that David now knew represented the strange conspiracy cult of the Trinary Directive.

And on the figures arm he saw the bloody scar: _JA_

Johnson's Army.

David shuddered at the thought. The idea would be comical if these people weren't taking themselves so damned serious. Dangerously serious.

The cloaked figure's malevolent eye beamed crimson, gazing from the monitor as if it could see all beyond. It looked to and fro a few times. Then paused. Then looked to and fro again. Then paused. It took a moment for David to realize it was just repeating the same movements over and over. He almost laughed aloud. It was a simple looping gif!

'Old school stuff,' he thought. The graphics were antiquated, amateurish even. But the effect was still disconcerting. Something about the shifting gaze of that eye was spooky. He sat at his console and studied the simple options presented at the foot of the screen.

_Play or Go Away._

'How old is this thing?' he wondered. It was so retro. Was that intentional? There was faint pixel distortion at the edges of the graphics, as if the intended resolution was originally much smaller. It even had a flashing cursor in the shape of an arrow. Grade school kids with a basic game editor could write better stuff than this.

Alfred had been given instruction that he was not to be disturbed until further notice. The butler would stop any intrusion and field all calls until the game was finished.

"Well, here we go," David said aloud. Then he scrolled the cursor to _Play,_ and clicked.

Nothing happened.

He tapped the word again. Still nothing. Then he noticed an icon spinning in the upper corner of the screen. It was the image of gaming goggles. Somebody didn't want anyone else watching him play. David opened a lower drawer on his desk and rummaged through his old gaming gear until he found his virtual helmet. He hadn't used it for some time; years by now. He put it on his head and turned it on. The console monitor faded to black and the dark man now appeared before his eyes. The blurred pixelation of the game was even more obvious.

David looked up and down, left and right, letting the game configure his movements. Then he tapped on _Play _again. The password prompt suddenly appeared. Once again, a simple old style format that looked slightly blurred in his Hi-Def helmet. Carefully, he tapped on his keyboard and entered the words he had deciphered from Shadowman's post. Myron had said he would not be given another pass, so he did not want to make any mistakes.

_timetodecide_

The dark figure suddenly burst into action, flinging his black cloak in a large arc and vanishing, as the image of a large containment facility appeared. David was looking down on the criss-crossing corridors of the place as if he was standing guard on a high outer wall. A metallic barrel with a scope and site protruded from the bottom of the screen. A first person shooter. Again, basic stuff. David flipped through his weapon options. Laser Blaster. Buzz saw. Flame Cannon. Numerous grenades, flak jackets and helmets. Night vision goggles. The usual array.

He scrolled the volume up to hear commands being issued as if from a distant loudspeaker. A robotic female voice was raised in alarm, telling all players to take their positions; that there had bee a security breach. This was getting awfully familiar, he thought.

Suddenly an explosion rang out, and an alarm started hooting as a horde wild Mecha began pouring into the corridors beneath. They looked vicious and crazed, a paranoid's vision of what rogue bots might be. They were spilling from the exploded walls of their cells, assaulting guards and escaping into the corridors of the compromised prison. David suddenly realized what this was and couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Rogue Patrol?" he said aloud, incredulous. It was just a knock off of another game! It was comical. For a moment he even thought that Animal and Myron had just been playing a joke on him. But why go to such lengths for a stupid prank?

If stealing other people's work was the best Johnson's Army could do, they weren't going to have much of a revolution against the computers.

He sighed, slipped on his control gloves and started pursuing the escaping robots, blasting and hacking and flaming his way through the onslaught. He wasn't a fan of shooters. He actually wasn't much of a gamer at all. Not even the clever strategy games that one of Cybertronics subsidiaries produced. It seemed like such a waste of time. But this was a pretty typical routine and he figured he could get through it quick enough.

Indeed, the game proved to be easy, so much so that it was getting boring after a short time. After another short time he had pretty much wiped out all the escapees on the first level, and was chasing what was left of them, a particularly nasty group of mad eyed, snarling Mecha, down an abandoned tunnel. He managed to trap the rogues in a dark corridor and had to stop them before they could get out of a giant hole that had been caused by a blast. It was tempting to use a grenade, but David knew the explosion would max his hit points and knock his player out. So he began using his buzz saw to slice into the throng of rogues. It was a slow and gruesome task. Even as cheap as the graphics were, the sizzling and electric fire brought back dark memories.

As David was finishing off the last few bots on the first level, he noticed an unusual figure run by. The cloaked man! What was he doing in the game?

Much to his surprise the cloaked man stopped and took a shot at him. The laser blast missed wildly, and took out a chuck of the wall a few virtual meters away. But he had made his intentions clear. He was a player.

David abandoned the battle and chased the figure down a different tunnel. He had to take out a few crazed looking robots that jumped into his path, and the cloaked man stopped a few times to shoot and laugh, taunting his pursuer. David flipped to his laser blaster and tried to take him out, but could never get a good aim. The mysterious character disappeared into a cell and escaped through a window with the bars missing.

David flipped to his night vision and buzz saw. Then he followed carefully through the break in the bars, expecting the shape to suddenly reappear and kill off his player. But what he encountered on the other side of the wall was vast dark landscape. A full moon was hovering over a large field filled with rouge Mecha, fleeing in all directions.

The cloaked man was nowhere in sight.

David sighed and went after the rogues, wondering how long this was going to go on before it led him to any answers.

Then, with a start he realized that it was not really a 'moon' floating above. Moons don't have baskets. As this dawned on him, a familiar voice came from the virtual sky.

"_Any old iron!"_

The words echoed though the darkness.

"_Expel your Mecha!"_

David froze in his tracks, a chill running thought his heart. This was definitely not in the original game.

"_Come along now!"_ said the long dead voice from the basket of the Moon Balloon. _"Let 'em run!"_

David tried to compose himself. There had to be a logical explanation for this. The Mecha roundup was not so uncommon an occurrence. And it wouldn't have been so difficult to get a sample of Johnson's voice. If the point of the game was to recruit members for their cause, and the creators of the game had been familiar with the Flesh Fair, it would not be so strange that they'd include this. It could be just a coincidence.

He relaxed, flipped back to his laser blaster and continued. The ground was littered with the refuse of fallen and discarded Mecha. Metallic shards and decapitated heads glinted in the light of the Moon Balloon, which was moving slowly through the virtual night, stopping now and then to shoot a net over fleeing Mecha in the forest.

Something howled. David changed his point of view to see strange creatures dashing through the trees. They had eyes that burned with flames, and the fangs in their gaping mouths glowed with a feral luminescence. Their engines growled savage through the deep woodland.

_The Hounds!_

David shook off his déjà vu. Once again he decided it was a logical coincidence. But this was getting weird.

He joined the chase and watched as the riders shot nets over running Mecha, pinning them to the ground. He was tempted to shoot the Hounds off their bikes, just for the hell of it. A little make-believe payback. But he knew that was not part of the game. So he shot the captured Mecha instead. He felt like a traitor, but he had to get the points if he expected to get to the next level and learn what more the strange conspiracy cult knew… if anything.

But he found that he could not run fast enough to keep up with the bikers. They raced into the darkness ahead and soon he found himself alone in the forest. The chase had moved on without him. He scanned the virtual night for a vehicle that he could use to catch them. But there was nothing.

What now?

As if in answer, a sound caught his attention. He changed his pov again and froze. What he saw would prove much harder to dismiss as coincidence. A figure had come into view, standing in a clearing of forest. The graphics were weak and pixelated, but it looked amazingly like…

"Joe?"

David uttered the words aloud. But his VUI, the _vocal user interface_ that allowed him to communicate with game characters, was turned off. So the game did not hear him. The bot would not respond. He tried to tell himself it could have been any random loverbot. But the forest. The Moon Balloon. Johnson's voice. The Hounds. And now a fleeing loverbot? What were the odds?

He knew he was supposed to destroy this escaped Mecha. It was how the game was played. But after taking aim he found he could not fire. The loverbot stood patiently in the clearing, watching him with expectant eyes, as if it was waiting for death. But when David didn't shoot, it walked slowly towards him and stopped, its eyes making a silent inquiry as to why he had not delivered the killing blow.

From this close, even with the crappy graphics, David could clearly see it was supposed to be Joe. Then the game character spoke and removed all doubt.

"_I'm in bad trouble." _

The words made David flinch. Who had made this game? Why? He forced himself to relax and considered how to continue. The loverbot waited, glancing back and forth occasionally as the distant beckoning voice above called for the old iron to be surrendered.

David finally opened his VUI.

"Gigolo Joe," he said. "What do you know?"

Something changed then. It was subtle, but there. The quality of the graphics shifted slightly, as if the game had suddenly changed to another level. David had a feeling that, had he just shot the loverbot, the chase would have continued to some other end. But he put those thoughts aside, for now he saw another figure approaching from the dark of the forest. It was a smaller shape and seemed to be carrying something on its back.

David knew he could not dismiss this as coincidence any longer. He watched in fascinated horror as the little Mecha bot once known as David Swinton walked into the glow from above. A Teddy clung to its back.

David yanked the goggles off, not wanting to see anymore. Who wrote this game? How could they have known all this? He felt the sudden urge to yank the disk out of his console and throw it in the ocean; to forget all about the spiders and the crazy Trinary Directive conspiracy, to forget about Myron and Animal and the strange twins, and just go back to the quiet uneventful life to which he had grown accustomed. His lute. His studies. His little Mecha brothers. Amanda.

But he knew the simplicity of that life had grown to a close. Somebody knew way too much. He had to find out who… and how.

He slipped the virtual helmet back on to see the bots making their way into the woods. He had missed part of their conversation. But then again, he really didn't need to hear it. He'd heard it all before. He caught up with the avatars of he and his departed friend.

"_Where are we going?"_ he heard the Joe thing say.

"_We're going this way now," _the David replied, without looking back.

Joe suddenly stepped into a log and executed a little shuffle of its feet.

"_Why do you do that?" _said the David.

"_It's just what I do." _replied the Joe.

The words ran cold over David's spine. But there were things missing. Whoever had reproduced this night, it was obvious they didn't know everything. He had to find out who they were.

As the wandering Mecha headed into the virtual forest, David followed, feeling naked and exposed. The irrational feeling that he was being watched grew stronger with each virtual step.

**2**

The sounds of the chase had diminished to distant background noise as David followed the game characters to the crest of a hill. He noticed the light had began to grow around him, and changed his pov upward to see the Moon Balloon descending slowly from high in the virtual sky. But Johnson's voice had grown quiet and he could not see who was at the controls.

With a start he realized that his weapon array was gone. This was no longer a single shooter. But what it had become, he was not sure. He felt a growing certainty that Myron and Animal had never seen this part of the game, if indeed anyone had. He was sure that everyone else would have probably shot the loverbot and would have been led on to some other conclusion; that he had been the only one to encounter little David and his Supertoy. And that was a very scary thought. For if it was true, it meant that this game had been constructed specifically for someone who had memories of that night…. constructed specifically for him!

The David bot suddenly stopped at the top of the hill. Joe waited obediently beside it. The two game characters started to speak softly to one another as they waited for the Moon Balloon, which was slowly approaching with a load of struggling Mecha in the net. David moved close to hear the two game characters speak, but their conversation didn't make any sense.

"_My Mommy doesn't hate me!"_ said the David.

"_They'll stop at nothing. The humans!"_ Joe replied.

"_Are you her?"_

"_I'm in bad trouble."_

"_And that's why we must go there."_

David remembered these words! But this was no conversation, just nonsense background chatter. There had to be an explanation! He put his growing alarm aside and analyzed the situation. The virtual bots were saying things that both he and Joe had actually said, as well as he could remember. But the sentences were fragments of their conversations, like disorganized edits haphazardly spliced together. Joe's voice and odd accent was correct. But then again, in life Joe was a standard issue loverbot. That could explain that.

The David however, did not sound like him. And that was intriguing. Encouraging. It meant there were things they didn't know… whoever _'they'_ were.

Was it possible someone had somehow got hold of isolated fragments of the real Joe's memory, and stuck them into the game? That had to be what was going on. But how? And why? What were they looking for?

The Moon Balloon finally set down, a silent glowing behemoth, lighting up the virtual night. The door to the carriage opened but David could still not see who lay beyond. The game characters had stopped their nonsense chatter and were looking in his direction, as if waiting for him to board. David moved his character forward and climbed into the carriage. 'Joe' and 'David' watched silently, but did not follow. As the carriage gate closed behind him David realized there were no steering controls.

He was no longer a player. This was no longer a game.

Slowly, as the craft ascended, leaving the other bots behind with the net of captured Mecha, the amateurish façade of the program vanished and the graphics took on sharp detail. He moved to the edge of the carriage and looked down on the forest that scrolled by beneath. The cheap pixelation must have been just a ruse, designed to fool… who? He had no idea. But whoever wrote this game knew exactly what they were doing. This was no amateur work.

This ground he now saw had been written in Hyper-Def. His virtual helmet switched automatically to 3-D and details of the forest stood out in stark clarity. Soon he was floating out over field surrounding a loud arena. Explosions and flashes of electric fire erupted from within a raucous chanting crowd.

The Flesh Fair!

David stepped away from the edge. He reminded himself it was just a game; that he could take off the headset at any time. But even that thought did not stop his breath from racing. His memories of that fateful night were still vivid. He did not want to see it.

In the end it turned out he had nothing to worry about. The balloon raced past the orgy of destruction and moved out over open waters. But the Delaware was much farther in real life. The geography was wrong. The designers had taken short cuts. The balloon raced through the sky. There was no sound. Only darkness and the fake waters beneath. And it was moving much faster than a real balloon was capable. In moment he was sure where it was headed.

As if to confirm his thoughts, the gaping statue heads of Rouge City appeared on the horizon and grew close amazingly fast.

**3**

Rouge City had been precisely duplicated. The creators of the game had left few details untouched. Except the people. There were none. The Moon Balloon slowed to a stop and descended over a familiar cul de sac, at the center of which stood a building David knew all too well. Doctor Know's neon face glowed from the entrance. As the craft set down, David moved his character onto the street, through the glass doors and into the lobby. But this was not the newly refurbished Doctor Know he had visited after his escape from Sy. No. This was the lobby as he had seen it on his first visit. A simple, metallic façade. And only one chamber door was open. It was the same one he and Joe had entered.

David paused a moment, scared to see what lay beyond. But it was too late to turn back now. He entered.

Again, he was not prepared for what he saw, but had somehow expected it all along. The graphics had changed again. The low rez imagery had returned… but it was different now. It was no longer the distorted pixels of a cheaply constructed game. This was a security cam recording. David realized he was looking at a capture from the video NanoFighter had stolen from the encrypted archives of Global Telecom; the company who had purchased the Dr Know franchise, and who now owned all rights to its databases.

This was the video that had started the whole Trinary Directive conspiracy!

It had been poorly decrypted. The contrast was faded, it warbled and skipped a frame now and then. And it was much too dark for David to make out faces. But when two shady images entered the room, he knew exactly who they were. There was no audio on the recoding, so he could not hear the words the two said to one another. But he remembered well what had been spoken that night, so long ago.

The smaller of the pair had a toy clinging to his back. He set it down and the two took their seats. The image was missing frames and skipped ahead. Suddenly Dr. Know was on the stage. Still no sound, but the images told everything. This was the place where David had been jostling with the brainy computer; trying to extract the information he'd needed from the vast databanks of this all knowing system. He saw his younger self… his _Mecha _self, jump up and try to catch the cartoonish image of a little fairy. He saw the Doctors disapproving glare and then Joe jump up and pull him back into his seat.

More frames were missing. The image warbled as it jumped ahead. When it stabilized, the Doctor was gone and words were scrolling over the darkness. David knew these words.

"_Come away o human child, to the water and the wild_

_with a fairy hand in hand, for the world.."_

The video skipped over more missing frames.

_In his book _

_HOW CAN A ROBOT BECOME HUMAN_

_Professor Allan Hobby writes _

_Of the power that can transform Mecha into Orga_

The frame skipped one more time. And then froze.

_Our Blue Fairy does exist in one place and in one place only …_

The words hung in the darkness of the virtual room, a silent blue provocation. David waited to see what would happen next. Then he noticed the prompt that had opened at the bottom of the screen. A cursor began flashing.

It was waiting for him to finish the line.

This was a test! Of course it was. The entire game had been a test. And what would happen when he wrote those words; the words that only he could know; the words that would signify the identity of the person viewing this recording?

There was only one way to find out. David set his hands on the keyboard..

"_At the end of the world, Where The Lions Weep."_

The words vanished and suddenly _he_ was back: the cloaked man. He dashed from the side of the room and hopped onto the stage, where the holographic doctor had once been. His beaming eye burnt a crimson hole in the darkness.

"Welcome, player!" The man said. His voice was deep and oddly joyous. David had not expected the man to sound like that. He strode back and forth across the stage as he spoke, his single eye fixed on David.

"Please, do not fear us. We wish you no ill will. We've been searching so long. So very, very long."

David felt himself standing, as if he might flee. But he kept the helmet on. This was just a recording, he kept telling himself. If a port had been opened the security system would block any transmissions until their source was cleared. The creators of the game would have anticipated that and done nothing to compromise themselves. So all of this must still be part of the local program.

And if it was still just part of a program it meant that, even after all he'd seen, the cult would still not know if he had completed the game. They would not know where he was.

He opened his VUI.

"Searching?" David said, his mouth dry and voice cracking. "Searching for who?"

The cloaked man crouched and emitted a chuckle full of dark portent. He raised his arm and pointed a black-gloved finger.

"Why, for you, David Swinton."

"You know me?" David asked, his voice heavy and breath racing.

"Why, of course!" the cloaked man laughed. "You are the link. You are the one who has crossed the boundaries."

David suddenly felt himself falling; felt the pain of impact as his backside hit the floor. He realized that he had been unconsciously stepping backward and had tripped over something. But the pain was dwarfed by the words that the taunting cloaked figure was saying.

"Come to us, David" the cloaked man said. "We have long been waiting to meet The Boy From Between."

**4**

The night was cool on David's face. He had calmed. Listening to the great rumbling of the weeping lions always tamed his temper. His fear had been replaced by a new sense of purpose. Danger. Adventure. Yes, he was ready for another adventure. He had become complacent. Comfortable. He could no longer pretend to lead a normal life.

He stood quietly for a time, at the edge of the building, preparing himself for what he was about to do; watching the distant hauler on whatever mysterious work his father had put it up to. But, amazingly, this was secondary in his thoughts. There was no time for that now. Only an hour ago it would have been impossible to conceive that there was something more important than protecting _Her_ sacred home beneath the waves.

But things had changed. Perhaps forever.

David turned and crawled into his Strato-Cruiser. The cockpit hissed shut and he strapped himself in. As his thrusters warmed, he programmed the coordinates he had received from the mysterious cloaked figure in the game… the game that had irrevocably changed his life. They wanted to meet him… whoever they were. The information he had received would tell his cruiser exactly where it needed to go. But he still had an override option, just in case he needed it.

And he'd brought something else along. Just in case.

Manhattan's Security would notice his departure. They'd notify his father. But he was still inland on whatever secret business he had there. So then they'd notify Ariel. And the Mecha would certainly give chase. But it would be too late. So Ariel was sure to alert the inland authorities to be on the lookout for a certain 'David Holt'. His Father's social standing would surely protect David from the sandal of arrest, if he should be caught. But he had no intention of getting caught.

He'd be in bad trouble when he returned. And he didn't mind that at all. Because he really hoped he would be returning.

As he lifted his craft slowly off the roof and into the night sky over a sleeping Manhattan, David thought of Amanda; of Frill. He thought of his sacred statue; of his friends and the easy life he had led for the past five years. Of Grace and Hiro and Chiyoko.

And he thought of Mommy. His beloved. Would he ever see her again? Would he see any of them again?

He throttled his thrusters and his cruiser shot out over the ocean like a silver bullet aimed at the heart of a mystery. In moments he was whooshing past the Sunken Lady. As he climbed into the starry night he knew alarms had been triggered. They'd be looking for him.

But 'The Boy From Between' was already racing toward the next unexpected twist in the strange tale of his life.

_(cont...)_


	38. Chapter 38

_Sorry for delay. Got stuck on this chap and couldn't get it started again. Chase scene was only supposed to be the opening section, but it became a chapter of its own._

**Alive**

**Book 2**

**Pt15**

**1.**

The Gatekeeper's voice was feminine and soothing. The message was not.

"_You have entered Delaware Coastal Airspace. This craft has been flagged for lack of proper identification."_

David glanced at his dash display. An official state seal hovered against his windshield; two men, a farmer and militiaman, facing one another over an Ox within a gold emblem; the words _"liberty and independence"_ emblazoned beneath.

"_Airway traffic is required to fly a banner at all times," _the Gatekeeper continued._ "Failure to comply can result in fines or revocation of rites of passage. Thank you for your cooperation" _

'Flying a banner' was flight talk for posting the net tag that identified your craft; a digital license plate. David was sure his wasn't the only craft with no ID, and had hoped to slip by unnoticed. But it must have been a slow night.

He tapped the app on his dash and his father's alias was logged.

"_Welcome Mr Holt," _the Gatekeeper replied. _"There are no airway alerts at this time but due to storm warning, Airway Authority is discouraging free flight over southern sector waterways. Lists of all travel conditions and services are updated in real time at State of Delaware net home."_

David breathed a sigh of relief. The name had not triggered an alert, which meant his father had not yet issued any reports on his missing son. He was actually surprised to have gotten this far without police interference. But the part about storms in the Southern Sector… well that worried him. He was pretty sure that was where the cloaked man's coordinates would lead him.

The Gatekeeper continued.

"_We are proud to announce all State and local updates are now Familiar compatible for those with implants. All updates will still be automatically sent to your pod."_

David didn't use Familiar technology. He'd been a robot once, and had no desire to have wires in his head again. The rising popularity of the digital implants confused him, as did the potential for abuse. But he pushed that all from his mind. He had more important issues to think about. Like, what the hell was he doing!

There had been no plan. He was flying blind now, acting on pure Orga instinct. A problem arises, fight or flee. It had all seemed so simple twenty minutes ago. Now he was beginning to see the predicament he'd put himself in.

But it was too late to go back now. His father would lock his Stratocruiser in the parking bay and he wouldn't be seeing any flight time for a long, long while. No. There was turning back. Oddly the thought relaxed him. It was somehow reassuring to know he was committed to a course of action. As he settled into the seat cushions and slowed his breath to cleared his mind, the cloaked man's words came back to him:

_"You are the link. You are the one who has crossed the boundaries."_

"The boy from between," David mumbled. But the link to what? And from between where? He'd find out soon enough … for better or worse

A public airway corridor came into view; a string of airborne passenger cruisers and cargo craft moving in flowing processions over the lights of the city below. David slowed and moved carefully into the flow of traffic. He'd had no training on the airway corridor, but there wasn't much traffic tonight, and he had played enough games to figure out most of the rules. Follow the digital pylons. Obey all speed minimums and maximums. Signal when you're entering or exiting the airway.

And no swearing or threatening comments in airway messages. David had been in traffic for less than a minute when someone broke this last rule.

"_Hey *#$&head! Get the $#&% out of fast flow!"_

The automatically censored message flashed bright red against his canopy. A few quick replies flashed through David's mind, but he decided to just move into a slower flow. No good would come of bringing unwanted attention to himself, which was why he had been moving so slowly in the first place. He set his Vayu to auto-pilot and it slipped into a space between two lumbering cargo haulers. As the craft that had sent the offending message raced by, David thought he saw someone raise the finger at him from behind its shaded canopy.

"Yeah, back at you too," he said to no one. If they only knew what he was carrying in the waist of his flight suit, they might not feel so cocky. But David flinched the moment the thought entered his head. Where did that come from, he wondered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"Don't get carried away," he said to himself, gripping his steeping column tight to restrain a sudden rush of nerves. "This is not a game," he whispered.

He had managed to calm himself again when his canopy display began to flash from red to blue to red to blue. What the hell now? His question was answered when two police cruisers descended quickly from above and locked positions on either side of him.

"_You are flying on a training license,"_ a gruff voice said over David's comm. _"Please descended into ground traffic and park in a designated citation area."_

There were numerous logical responses to the situation, most of which had to do with abandoning his crazy trip and complying with the officers demands. But David was Orga now. And his Orga instincts kicked in.

Fight or flight.

He snapped off his auto-pilot and gunned his thrusters.

**2**

Airway traffic was regulated by a central hub of sentient A.I. systems called Gatekeeper. The system was tied into a larger network dedicated to monitoring national traffic, whereas the local system tracked incoming and outgoing craft as well a weather systems and accidents. The Gatekeeper was also completely capable of controlling the vehicles themselves, and at one time, before David was even conceived, there had been a political movement to do just that; have all traffic controlled by the SAI systems. It would have alleviated Orga of the task of piloting their vehicles and removed human error from the equation.

But an opposition arose. 'This is America, damn it', was the protestors meme. A nation born and raised on the fundamental principles of human individuality and freedom. For the same reason Mecha were not permitted to act as peace officers or allowed positions of governmental authority, the Gatekeeper had been relegated to a monitor, not a regulator. The same grassroots citizen's groups that had removed Mecha from uniforms and political office had formed to wrest freedom of movement from the hands of what they saw as usurping mechanical tyrants. Laws were overturned and new ones passed. The mandatory driver override programs had been removed from new vehicles. Orga were once again in control. It made the job of traffic police that much harder. But such was the cost of freedom.

It was for this reason that when David pushed his Vayu into overdrive and blasted out of the airway flow and into free space, there was no system in place to stop him. He would have to be captured the old fashioned way: pursue and apprehend.

**3**

"_You are in violation of Airway Traffic Ordinance 1576.30! Desist or face arrest!"_

David tapped his dash and the voice was muted, only to be replaced by the officer's warning in red text, flashing angrily across his screen. Since it was a police alert he could not turn it off, but they couldn't stop him from ignoring it. There was really no need to read what was being dictated anyway. He knew what it would say. Instead he focused his attention on the building that was suddenly ahead of him, growing rapidly closer.

Collision alerts sounded as David pulled back on his controls, so close to the building that he could see his silvery craft reflected in the windows. The Vayu whipped into a steep climb. The police were tight on his tail and he was sure there would be another patrol waiting when he topped the building and descended on the other side.

So he made a quick change of plan.

The police were taken completely by surprise when the fleeing Vayu pulled a sudden loop, arced over their heads and shot straight towards ground traffic. They scrambled to adjust course but the little silver Straocruiser, which was really designed for high altitude supersonic travel, was already getting lost in the cluster of traffic below.

David whooped triumphantly as he pulled out of the descent just feet over the top of ground traffic. The maneuver was a trick he'd perfected on his simulator, and he was surprised how easily he pulled it off in the real world. He killed his GPS as he zipped towards a group of buildings and slipped into a tight alleyway. The police would still be able to find him even without the GPS, but since he'd fled before they could tag his craft, they'd have to find him by line of sight. That would give him an extra minute or so. It wasn't much but it was all he needed. He couldn't afford to waste it thinking about how much trouble he was getting himself into. He'd survived bigger trouble before.

The alley was really just a small walk space between two corporate towers, and too thin to turn around. So when David could go no further, he flipped head over tail, so that his nose was now pointed toward the mouth of the walk way, and his Vayu upside down. Before he could flip over he noticed a man in a black suit looking up at him. The man had been talking on his pod when he noticed the Vayu hanging above his head. David was close enough to see the man's mouth form a shocked "what the…"

David smiled and waved. Then he rolled the Vayu over, made a quick trajectory calculation, took a deep calming breath… and maxxed out his thrusters.

The walls of the alley turned into a sudden blur. G-forces pressed madly against him, pushing him back into his seat which adjusted automatically to accommodate the force of his acceleration. He shot from the mouth of the alley, thrusters screaming, seeing the flashing light of he police only for an instant as he sped past the place they'd been hiding; waiting for him to reappear.

But they'd not been prepared for this.

He watched them give chase, three of them now, but too late. Using the length of the ally for acceleration had given him the advantage. He was our of their grasp, racing for the stratosphere where they could not follow.

**4**

The city shrank quickly below as David shot high over the traffic zone, up into the starry night. He toggled his monitor and saw the flashing police copters far behind. They were not capable of the same altitudes as his Vayu could achieve. But David knew there were other enforcers for those pursuits. Federal enforcers. The kind that might have contact with a certain man named Greig or Jeff or Frank. And the Gatekeeper was sure to alert those authorities about a crazy boy in a rogue Stratocruiser, racing through the Delaware sky.

He came up with a plan to deal with that.

David was about to initiate the move that he was sure would confound his pursuers and set him back on course, when he noticed the text on his dash had changed. He'd been ignoring it, assuming it was police telling him what laws he was breaking and what a load of trouble was in store when they caught him. But that was not what was written there now.

"_Son. What are you doing?"_

David froze. It was his father. His creator. His betrayer!

A sudden wave of resentment washed over his body. His anger rose like bile in his throat. But he could not afford to lose himself in emotion now. He was about to miss the window for his maneuver. He ignored the message, killed all his exterior lights and banked hard. Collision alerts screamed as he flipped his craft over and descended straight for the ground, hoping that another reckless driver hadn't broken from the airway flow only to wind up in his path. He was going too fast to change course.

"_David, I know you are getting my messages! What the hell do you think you're doing?"_

Not now, Dad, David thought. He only had seconds before he crossed the threshold for impact and he … had to … time this …just ….

David laughed as he bottomed out just up above a quiet suburban neighborhood. He had executed a perfect 180, and wound up at ground level, headed in the opposite direction the police had been pursuing him. Far above he could see the pinpoints of their lights flashing. He felt a moment's relief, but he knew the ruse wouldn't last long.

He slowed and cruised at regulation speed just feet above the quiet houses. There was a time in history when just flying this low would allow him to avoid detection. But not any more. Now his only hope was to lose the signature of his craft in the clutter of network noise the residential neighborhood produced.

"_This is insane, David. Talk to me now, before it goes so far I can't help you any more"_

The police were slowing high above. They'd finally realized what he'd done. Now they'd come searching. David snicked on his comm.

"Call them off," he said.

Alan Hobby was quiet for a moment, as if surprised to hear David's voice.

"_What is going on?"_ he said. _"The police contacted me and said they were chasing you over-"_

"Yes they're chasing me," David said. "Call them off and we'll talk."

Hobby made an exasperated sound.

"_Who do you think I am, Son? I have no power to call off the…"_

"You are Alan Hobby, creator and CEO of Cybertronics, the largest and most successful Mecha manufacturer in the world. You have more government contracts than the rest of the industry combined. And I am your son! So call them off… Father!" David let the word hang between them for a moment. "And then we'll talk."

David heard the man sigh.

"_Security reported a Neutralizer missing. Please tell me you don't know about that."_

David did not respond. His silence said everything.

"_Have you lost your mind?" _Hobby yelled. "_David, please! I don't know what's going on with you, but this is serious. The police realize you have that and … and you could get yourself killed! Please son, just land and surrender and… and then we'll work things out. Somehow."_

"No," David replied. His voice was flat. Resolute. Calm. "I don't have time to explain and even if I did I wouldn't say a word before I got some answers from you. But for now, you have you call them off… or, you're right… I could very well die out here."

His Father went silent again. The police were descending slowly, looping back and forth, shooting searchlights in all directions as they panned out over the city. David noticed some boys illuminated in a street lights below him. They looked up as he passed slowly over, and David thought he saw one of them put his pod to his ear. Reporting a strange Stratocruiser driving cloaked over a residential area, no doubt.

"Dad," David said. "I don't have much time. Yes, I have the Neutralizer. But it's for my protection."

Amazingly he thought he heard a sob.

"_What did I do, son?"_ he asked. "_How did I hurt you, to make you act out this way?"_

David steeled his heart against the sound of that plea. He wanted to trust the man so badly. But so much was telling him not to.

"I don't know, Dad. What did you do?" David replied, abandoning his calm facade, unable to repress his anger any longer. "What is that boat doing out there… over Her sanctuary? What is all the secrecy about? Where have you been going on your trips inland?"

And what are you hiding about Martin Swinton? David wanted to say. But he'd save that question for later… if there was a later.

"_The boat is just laying a barrier David!"_ Hobby said. _"I told you that."_

"And I should trust you why?" David yelled.

The police copters were still far in the distance, but David noticed them change direction at once, as if responding to a common call. They were headed slowly in his direction. The boy's reports must have gotten through.

"Where have you been going inland?" David said. "And why all the secrecy?

His Father made an exasperated sound.

"_This has nothing to do with you!"_

"What are you hiding?" David yelled.

"_Am I not allowed a private life, David?" _Hobby replied.

"They're coming Dad. I am going to have to outrun them again."

"_Jenna, David!"_ Hobby exploded_. "I've been seeing Jenna West, ok? We're… dating. Understand? That's all. It has nothing to do with your situation, and I don't know why you'd assume that-"_

"And my situation has nothing to do with you!" David exploded back. "You can't help me! I have to do this alone and right now you have to call them off because I am not surrendering!"

There was no response.

"Did you hear me?" David said. But the comm. was silent.

Dad!" he said.

There was no reply. Had the police blocked the signal? Moments passed in silence. The searchlights were growing closer. David didn't have any more time to find out what happened. They were coming. He ascended to 100 ft and was about to hit his thrusters, when he noticed the police copters suddenly slow to a stop, hover for a moment…. and then turn around.

They had abandoned the chase!

David fell back into his seat pressed his hands against his temples and let out a scream. It was raw and unabashed, full of tension and fear. The frustrated sound filled the cabin until he had exhausted his breath. He took a moment to fight back sudden unexpected tears and then sat up straight. There was no time for dallying.

His comm. came to life again.

"_Ok, David. I've managed to give you some time. I called in some favors but I can't do it again. You owe me an explanation…" _Hobby paused a moment_ "… when you come home to me."_

David heard the raw emotion in those last words. Was it love? Did the man, his creator, truly love him? How could he know? But there was no time to ponder this question, nor could he afford to let himself be moved by the man's plea.

"_I have no idea what is happening son but please be careful… and please get rid of that Neutralizer. If you use it incorrectly you could kill someone. And that would mean... " _Hobby went quite again. When he spoke David could hear the depth of sorrow in his voice.

"_Come back home, son. When this is over. We'll work it out… whatever it is."_

But David could promise nothing.

"I'll try," he said at last.

Then he killed the audio and accelerated, zooming quickly over the quiet houses below; wondering if he'd ever lead as uneventful a life as the sleepy inhabitants within.

_(cont...)_


	39. Chapter 39

**Alive**

**Book 2**

**Pt16**

**1**

The sky had become cloaked in brooding clouds. The wind kicked up, hissing through the trees as a thin cold drizzle washed over the forest. David wiped his damp hair from his face, flinching as a hint of coming autumn bit crisp on his cheeks. He fought to keep his balance as he climbed a hill, slick with mud and dead leaves. He was checking his pod for coordinates when he slipped, stopping his fall with his free hand, feeling it buried to the wrist in fresh mud.

"Damn it!" he mumbled, pulling himself free and wiping his hand in the brush. If he'd had more time he would have prepared better, brought more than his flight suit and the few changes of clothes he had left in the Vayu. Too late for that now. At least he had secure access to his credit account; access his Father didn't know of and couldn't interrupt should the man try to bring him home by cutting off his money.

And he'd also thought ahead enough to steal the Neutralizer.

His father underestimated his abilities with the device. Designed for use by Mecha bodyguards and security, and strictly regulated, it was the only weapon artificials were legally allowed to use against Orga. And even then only when another Orga life was in danger. In Stun mode the device would render an assailant disorientated for 15-30 seconds, enough time for a bodyguard to get their client to safety. In Hostile setting it would knock an assailant unconscious so they could be cuffed and proper authorities called. Any bodyguard who use the device could expect to have its RAM thoroughly analyzed after such an occurrence. Even a defensive, non-lethal attack on an Orga was a serious matter. And of course there was the possibility of accidental death. Depending on the health of the target and the strength of the neutralizing charge, unintended fatality was a real danger. Any Mecha that even accidentally expired an Orga would be shut down, no matter how justified its actions.

It wasn't fair. But it was the law. Such injustice was the usually case with Mecha. The faint trace of old resentments surfaced, but he pushed them away. He was Orga now. There was nothing he could do with those old emotions.

He had parked the Vayu in a gully a quarter of a mile away from the target zone, in a place where he'd seen no active net connections that might lead the Gatekeeper to the crafts location; or anyone else that might be looking for that matter. And he had his mysterious host to consider. Whoever the cloaked man turned out to be, he wasn't expecting David this night. It was better that the mystery man not know 'the boy from between' had a hasty escape should he need it…. As well as the other defensive measure, tucked in the back of his pants.

He'd done a quick but adequate job of covering the Vayu with branches and leaves, and the darkness would help obscure it from scrutiny. If anyone found it, it would be completely by accident. And if they tried to open the canopy, they'd get a nasty surprise. David was sure they'd survive the protective electric shock, even in the rain. But they would not be likely to mess with anyone's abandoned Stratocruiser again.

By the time he reached the crest of the hill, the rain had started falling in earnest. He found firm footing and gazed out on the cluster of dark houses ahead. This place looked awfully familiar. He checked his pod again; to make sure he had followed the coordinates correctly. He had.

The night lay heavy on the forest, but even though he had approached from a different direction the last time he was here, David recognized the withered old house beneath the ancient tree, whose branches grasped the roof like a gnarled claw. Through the pattering of rain drops he could make out the distant thump of Crash drums.

A dark chuckle fell from his lips. He'd had a feeling he'd wind up here again.

**2**

"Animal here?"

David's voice caught the boy at the gate completely off guard. He hadn't seen David emerge from the shadows; hadn't heard him approaching, his footfalls being so light and cloaked by the trickle of rain on the wet ground. The hapless guard turned so abruptly he almost fell over and David had to suppress a laugh. By the looks of his tattooed face and the metallic 'shield' implants on his jaw and shoulders, he would not take being mocked lightly.

"Tell him Blue is here," David said, stifling a chuckle.

"Who the hell are you?" the boy said, puffing up his shielded shoulders as he regained his composure.

"I just told you that," David said. The boy sputtered for a moment, trying to gain control of the situation.

"You can't just walk up on me like that, fool!" he said. "And what's with the jump suit? I ought to blast your shiny ass!"

"Well, that's no way to greet a guest," David replied calmly.

"I wasn't told about any 'guests'," the boy snarled. "But I know about a fool whose about to catch some serious frag if he don't explain hisself."

'_You mean 'himself'?_ was what David was about to say. But he noticed two figures emerge from the dark of the porch and rush to the witless boy's side. David took different tack.

"Flesh for flesh," he said quickly, flashing the CJ sign with his hand. "I'm only here to see Animal."

One of the other boys, a dark skinned CJ with prematurely haggard features, regarded David with a look of malice.

"Never heard of him," the dark boy replied.

"You must be lost," said the other.

"Move along," said the witless guard, confident now that he had backup.

"You're wasting time," David said. "Just tell him Myron's friend Blue is here, and I have an important message. He'll know who I am."

The three cast silent looks of indecision between one another before the witless boy spoke again.

"Blue?" he said, scrunching his face. David wondered why everyone thought that name was so strange.

"Sounds kinda Shiny to me," said the other.

"What you want with Animal?" asked the dark boy.

"If I could tell you that, I wouldn't need to see him, would I?" David replied. The logic seemed to confuse the three for a moment and more silence passed.

"Tell Animal, I've come from The End of the World," David said, hoping the phrase might mean something to them, and might expedite the situation.

The witless boy guffawed.

"End of the world?" he said, laughing. "What kind of bullsh-"

But he was interrupted by a hand grasping his shoulder. The dark boy, an older teen with metallic implants on his knuckles and the scars of old battles on his face, pushed the other aside and looked David over hard. His expression suggested he had heard those words before.

"Follow me," he said at last.

**3**

Animal raised an impatient hand to interrupt David's story.

"Ok, I get that you finished the game, but that doesn't tell me why you're here," he said.

David had been trying to explain how he came to be at this place, without giving too much away in front of the three guards. They now stood in the doorway, glaring at David as if they were going to stomp him the minute they got the chance. As far as they were concerned, he'd tricked them by making them think Animal was expecting him.

David was still unsure what to say to whom. The cloaked man's instructions had not been clear. He started to speak again, but Animal shushed him.

"The game gives explicit instructions on how to proceed," Animal said, fixing David with a potent gaze. "There are procedures we have to follow for our safety! No one has ever been sent to this location by the game. No one!"

"That's because no one has ever let the Loverbot live," David said. "Everybody kills it for points, trying to get to the next level. I didn't."

"And that means…?"

"It changes the game,' Animal," David explained. "Takes you to an alternate conclusion."

"So?" Animal blurted. "It still doesn't explain why you're here!" He was moving from impatience to anger now.

"The game sent me here!" David replied quickly. "I found a secret level and met the cloaked man, and he told me-"

"The cloaked man?" Animal said. There was something in his eyes that David could not decipher. "That's just a game character," he said. "He doesn't talk. Just tries to kill you. You're supposed to frag him to get the pass for next level."

"Not in the alternate conclusion," David said "The cloaked man appeared, gave me coordinates. I put them on a flash and loaded them into my Stratocruiser and-"

"Stratocruiser?" Animal interrupted, incredulous. "You have a Stratocruiser? You?"

"It's not mine," David lied quickly, realizing his mistake. "It just that I-"

"Your Sugar Daddy gave it to you?"

David sighed. "No, nothing like that," he said.

"So you stole it?" Animal interrupted again. "You came to my place in a stolen Stratocruiser. Are you a complete idiot? Please tell me you left it offline."

"Of course, its offline," David shot back.

"Really? How do you know? People have backup alarm systems, you damn fool! You'll lead the cops right to me!"

"Ok, it's mine!" David blurted.

Animal fell into silent confusion. The dark boy whistled low under his breath.

"Relax," David continued. "It's mine ok, and how I got it is irrelevant. What matters is the cloaked man did appear at the end of the game, he did speak to me and left me coordinates to me to this location."

"I've been recruiting with that game for years, "Animal said. "Thousands have played it by now. No one has ever seen that level before. No one has ever been sent here. Why you?"

David hesitated. He wanted to say '_because I am the only one in the world who would have known the pass phrase'_. But he couldn't go that far.

"Because… I'm different," he said finally. "Unique."

Animal shook his head as if he wasn't sure what he just heard.

"Oh, I see," he said with a dark chuckle. "Well pardon me, your highness. Apart from being an obnoxious brat with your own Strato, what the hell make you so damned different, Pork Chop?"

"Pork Chop?" the witless boy at the door repeated. The guards began to laugh; all but the dark boy, who was still staring at David with hard eyes, seeming to sense something big was about to happen.

David glanced over his shoulder at the three. Not because he was annoyed at being mocked, but because he wasn't sure if he should speak freely in front of them.

"You'd better explain yourself," Animal said, his voice now low and full of menace. His suspicion was becoming dangerous. It was time to up the ante.

"I'm different because…. because I'm from _'between'_."

Animal didn't react at first. But after at moment he took a step back. Something new came into his face. His glare was replaced by a look of dawning realization. It was the kind of look one might make seeing an amorphous mist slowly take the shape of a human. Even if you have always believed in ghosts, you are never quite prepared to see one.

"What?" Animal said at last, hesitant, unsure.

"You heard me." David spoke softly but with new confidence. "I am the Boy From Between."

The words hit Animal like a slap on the face.

"From between?" The witless boy said, laughing. He was immediately silenced by a shout.

"Shut the hell up!" Animal barked, instantly becoming the commander. "Zieg and Chase, you stay" he said . Then he pointed at the witless boy. "You get the hell out there and stand your post!"

The boy wasn't witless enough to miss the sudden change of mood. He headed quickly for the door, but Animal called to him before he walked out. The boy stopped and turned, fear in his eyes.

"You didn't see or hear a word that was said here. Understand? Nothing!" Animal said, his eyes intense beads of threat. "Say it!"

"I-I-I didn't s-see anything… or hear anything," the boy sputtered, now aware of the gravity of whatever the hell was going on. He took a last glance at David. David returned it, knowing the kid was wondering just who this strange Shiny was, and probably wishing he hadn't mocked him.

"Go on," Animal said. "And no one else gets in here tonight or I'll feed your ass to the Masher with the fibes!" The boy dashed out into the drizzly night.

Animal turned his attention back to David. There was something like awe behind the man's usually stoic expression. He regarded David like a mythological beast that had somehow sprung to life before his eyes.

The other boys stood by in stony silence. There was no more humor in their faces. They were soldiers now, awaiting orders. Neither was sure what was happening, but both knew better than to ask.

"The boy from between," Animal whispered pensively. Reverently. It seemed like his last lingering shred of doubt about the Trinary Conspiracy had been torn away. "The Man told me that someday this might happen, but…" he stopped and rubbed his head. "But I never thought I'd live to hear somebody say those words."

"The Man?" David said.

Animal hesitated a moment, then seemed to realize the pointlessness of keeping secrets from this particular boy.

"The man with the plan," he said at last. "He saw it coming from the beginning. Figured it all out. The Trinary Directive. The sentient Mecha and their plan for world domination.. Without him, there'd be no resistance."

"And the spiders?" David said. Animal shrugged.

"Yeah, that was all part of it. The game and the spiders and the net snoops. It was all part of the search for …" he sighed. "Well, for you I guess."

"And what do they want from me?" David said.

"Dude, I'm just a soldier. But if you're really who you say you are then… "

Animal didn't finish that sentence. He turned and began to pace indecisively, rubbing his forehead like he'd developed a sudden headache. After a moment he knelt at his laptop. Then he stood up again, shaking his head and wringing his hands. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pod, started to text something…. Then changed his mind and put it back.

"Can't use anything unsecured," he said, speaking to no one. "This is big. Too big. Way out of my league." He was pacing a large circle around David as he spoke, as if he was afraid to get too close. Finally he grabbed his jacket from the bedroll and slipped it on.

"You tell Myron about this?" he said as he knelt to put on his boots.

"Haven't even seen Myron."

"You tell anybody at all?"

"Who would I tell? Nobody would know what the hell I was talking about."

Animal stood again and pretended to tuck in his shirt as he slipped something into the back of his belt. David knew what it was. He wasn't worried about it though. He had his own 'backup'.

"You'd better not be playin' me," Animal said. "This shit is for real."

David didn't respond. He didn't have to. His eyes said it all. He glanced confidently back and forth between Animal and the two CJs, not sure what they were expecting of a legend.

"So," he said with a shrug. "Where we going?"

**4**

The club was almost empty. Slow night. A few Crash kids were on the stage, beating drums and grinding out a cacophonous din with poorly tuned, homemade guitars. It was awful. But the smattering of kids crashing on the dance floor seemed oblivious to the bad notes, and were enjoying themselves.

David noticed their reaction as he followed Animal into the club with the two CJ guards on their heels. When the kids saw Animal it was like a rock star had entered the room. Royalty. They stopped dancing. They pointed and whispered, flashed CJ signs over their chests as he passed by. The man returned the salute flippantly and continued his determined stride towards the back of the club. So Animal was 'someone' here; had some kind of rank among the young revolutionaries. This rather surprised David. The man didn't live like celebrity. He was obviously not exploiting his position for money, or sex. He didn't bask in their adoration; actually seemed perturbed by it. The two CJ boys with them however, puffed up their chests, obviously proud to be seen in the company of someone held in such high regard.

But their bluster was short lived and their disappointment was obvious when Animal told them to wait as he led David through a door in the back of the club, and into a clean, well-lit storage area. A few more CJs were in there, male and female. All of them muscular and grim looking. They were leaning against packing boxes, passing a vapor pipe and chatting. They jumped to attention when Animal entered and flashed salutes. Animal started to pass them by, but then stopped.

"Don't be misting that stuff in here," he said. "And this is the band's last song. If it goes one for more than five minutes, pull the plug and tell 'em they got another five minutes to pack their gear or we'll keep it. We're shutting down early."

"You got it, Shadowman," said one of the men.

An annoyed look came into Animals face. "What did you just call me?" he said, his voice low. The man realized his blunder and lowered his head apologetically.

"Sorry, I meant, sure Animal," he muttered. David realized it was the bouncer that had kicked he and Myron out of the club the night of their fight. The man was big, imposing, yet obviously intimidated by Animal. Scared actually. David pondered that for a moment before Animal tapped his shoulder and they continued towards a cargo elevator at the back of the storage room.

"What was that about?" David asked as they waited for the lift to arrive.

"Rules, Blue," Animal replied. "Anonymity is a priority. Online nicks are for online only, even when you're with your own. I've had to tell that idiot three times already. Next time I'll make sure he doesn't forget."

David decided not to ask how he'd do that. He could easily imagine.

The lift took them down past two underground floors of aged farming machinery and stopped at the third. They disembarked into a dark hallway, at the end of which there was a doorway guarded by two large CJs. A man and woman, clad in black with the symbol of the Trinary Conspiracy on their shirts. These two were downright scary. Huge, inked bi-ceps. Short cropped hair. Stoic faces. Both carried openly displayed weapons at their sides.

Neither saluted as as Animal approached.

"State your business," said the male guard.

"I have something for the man."

_The Man?_ David thought. There it was again. Like it was a title.

The guard shot David a disapproving look.

"What the hell would he want with that?" he said

"I believe he prefers the ladies," said the woman. They both laughed. They were not intimidated by Animal. But he was not intimidated by them either.

"Don't be a douche, Harold. This is important," Animal said. The guard bristled at mention of his name.

"Hey, I'm just doing my job, Animal," Harold shot back.

"Yeah, and who got you that job, musclehead?" Animal turned to David. "Tough guy here used to make a living ripping Shiela bots off delivery trucks and scraping them for parts, before I turned him into something useful."

"Blow me, Animal!" the man said, his face reddening.

"I prefer the ladies. Now let him know we're here."

"Don't tell me how to do my job, dammit!"

As the two argued, David noticed a small lens at the very top of the door. Was someone watching? As if to answer, a deep disembodied voice filled the room.

"_Let the boy pass."_

The argument stopped instantly. The guard relented, flustered and embarrassed at letting Animal get the best of him.

Animal stepped forward, taking the opportunity to explain himself.

"I apologize for not contacting you first, sir," he said quickly, speaking to the camera. "But there's been an important development that I think you should -"

"_I know why you've come,"_ said the voice. _"I'll handle things from here."_

"But this is not a typical recruit," Animal said. "We should talk so I can explain what-"

The voice interrupted him again.

"_I know who he is,"_ it said. _"And I know where he's from."_

A confused look came over Animal's face. David knew they were thinking the same thing. How could he know?

"_You've done good, soldier," _said the voice. _"You may leave now."_

Animal hesitated a moment, mouth moving like he wanted to object. He glanced at David with something that might have been concern. But then he sighed and put his hand out. David faltered, and then understood the gesture. He put his hand in Animal's and the man grasped it firmly.

"It was an honor meeting you," he said. "All this time, and it was you all along." He shook his head in self-recrimination. "Pork Chop. Damn. Who would'a known?"

David wanted to ask exactly who they thought he was. But Animal was already headed for the elevator. He too was a soldier. He too followed orders.

Harold was suddenly all business. He approached David.

"Got to search you, brat" he said, grabbing David by the arm.

_The Neutralizer! _David could not let himself be searched. He pulled away.

"Get your hands off me!" he said with much more bravado than he felt. "I didn't come here to be molested by some steroid freak!"

The female guard laughed. But Harold looked like his head was about to explode. Swearing under his breath, he grabbed for David again.

"_That's no way to treat a guest," _the low voice said. _" Just send him in."_

Harold stepped back, disappointed at not being able to rough the brat up. The large door slowly hissed open and David stepped into the shadows beyond the threshold, his only reassurance being the Neutralizer he carried in the back of his suit.

**5**

It had been a long time since David pined for his old abilities, but now he really wished he could see in darkness as he once had been able. The room was pitch black. And large. Only the faint air flow, and the reverberation of David's feet on the cement floor gave any idea of the dimensions of the place. He could hear something whirring in the body of the building; perhaps air conditioner or filtration system. But there was nothing that would indicate any machinery in the room. No monitors or LED displays.

So how had 'The Man' been able to see him on camera? Perhaps he was somewhere else, watching from some other location.

"Hello?" David said.

His voice reverberated in the darkness. No answer. Not even a breath. Was this a trap? He positioned his hand near the Neutralizer in the back of his flight suit.

"I've come too far to play hide and seek," he said. "Show yourself."

Then came the first hint of illumination. Slowly the ceiling lights came to life, turning the utter blackness of the room into a dim glow. David saw he was correct; the room was indeed large. Huge. An empty storage room of some type. But not completely empty. There was someone ahead of him, atop what looked like a small platform. Yes… it was a man, in a chair. A dark cloak was draped over his shoulders and his face looked like… a robot?

"What the…?" David stopped when he realized his error. It wasn't the man's face he was seeing. It was some sort of device. A scanner he realized.

""Don't waste your time," David said. "I'm flesh."

The man dropped the scanner into his lap. But David could still not see his face. It was obscured by the giant lapels of his cloak. So it was the man from the game. The Cloaked Man. But not the cartoonish, animated version. No glossy oversized shoes, just simple flat-black military boots. No burning red eye beamed from behind the obfuscating lapels. Just a chin beneath the shadow of his Fedora hat. When he spoke, his voice was soft, non-descript; neither the merry chortling from the game, nor the dark commanding voice he'd heard in the hall. It was a mortal's voice.

"Did you know there are Mecha who can trick scanners now?" he said.

"I wasn't aware of that," David replied.

"Oh yes," The Man said, conversationally. "They've become very devious, these sims. The trick is accomplished by interfering with the spectrum feedback analyzer which tells the scanner what material it sees. I won't bore you with the details, they're very complicated and scientific, but one can never assume anything about anyone anymore, can they… Mr Holt?

David didn't flinch. So he knew the pseudonym? Big deal. But how did he get it?

"I've made no assumptions about anything," David said. "I just followed the coordinates given me."

The Man nodded his head to acknowledge this.

"Now would that be the same David Holt who just led State Air Patrol on a wild chase in the skies over Delaware? Not very discreet, are we?"

David wasn't in the mood for this. It was time to lay the cards on the table.

"So you can scan police transmissions. Not impressed. Is this why you wanted to find me? To play mind games? Let's talk about Nanofighter's video. Let's talk about The Trinary Directive."

The Man set the scanner aside and stood. He placed his hands behind his back and paced two and fro a few times. His face was still obscured, but the hint of a smile was visible below the shadow of his hat.

"Oh yes, the conspiracy," he said with a chuckle. "That was a pretty clever one, eh?"

"Clever one…?" David pondered the words. "What are you saying?"

"Come now," The Man said. "We can speak freely. It's only us here. Well, us and my associate."

The Man nodded his head towards the wall. David looked to see another figure, draped in the same dark cloak, face hidden be the same large lapels, shadowed by the same hat. They were identical! Had he been there all along? David stepped back and angled himself so both men were in his field of vision.

"Don't be concerned," The Man said. "Neither of us mean you any harm."

"What did you mean by 'clever one'? David said. "Are you admitting something?"

"Do I really need to admit anything to you, of all people?" The Man said. "You know how this works; mix a bit of truth with a lot of myth, stir it all up in a hot stew of fear and hate. And voila! You have a conspiracy. Something the weak can blame for their woes. Red meat for savages to gnaw in the terrifying night."

"So it's a lie," David said.

"A Noble Lie is what I believe Plato called it."

"That's a bit lofty. I don't think you fit those shoes."

"I believe he wore sandals."

"Enough already! Who are you?"

"Why, I'm The Man, of course."

"Stop being evasive," David said. "What is your purpose?"

"Didn't Animal tell you," The Man replied. "There's a war coming."

"So this is all about some war with Mecha? Why? They won't fight back. They can't harm us. Asmovian Law dictates that restraint."

"They represent other dangers. Dangers that go beyond simple physical injury."

"We have done this to ourselves. The robots are just a scapegoat."

The Man paused a moment, lowered his head in thought.

"You've read Nietzsche?" he said.

David didn't reply.

"I'll take your silence as a confirmation," The Man said. "Do you recall the infamous proclamation of Zarathustra as he descended from the Mountain? '_God is Dead'_. Thus he spoke. And how the clinging masses quaked at this simple wisdom. How they roiled and burned in their misunderstanding. But he spoke not of the paternal deity of their cruel mythology. He spoke of Man himself; of the self-inflicted delusions in which he had imprisoned Orga-kind. "

"You're basing your philosophy on the works of a madman?" David scoffed.

"Orga frailties," the Man chuckled. "_The higher we soar the smaller we appear to those who cannot fly." _

"So, we're gong to waste time with quotes now?"

"Why so impatient? Is someone expecting you, Mr. Holt?… Or should I said Mr. Hobby, son of Alan Hobby of Cybertronics Inc?"

David could not feign calm this time. How did he know? The Man pretended not to notice David's alarm as he continued.

"The Orga mind is a frail thing, especially when exposed to unfiltered truth. But Nietzsche himself is irrelevant to our discussion. He is as dead as his philosophy. The new age requires new thinking. The Zarathustra of our times would instead say 'Man is Dead,' though he does not know it. It is not Orga-kind who has passed into obsolescence, but the 'old' man; the man who let himself be controlled by the very devices he created, like a Master prostrate before his slaves. He is our true enemy."

David pondered these words.

"So… you're going to war with… with Orga?" he said. "With your own kind?"

"_You must be ready to burn yourself in your own flame; how could you rise anew if you have not first become ashes?"_"

"Enough with the quotes," David said. "There is no deep philosophical foundation to what you're doing. Plato's Noble Lie was a mythical framework for a hierarchical society. You just create falsehoods to achieve your selfish aims; lies that cause suffering. People will die because of your games You're nothing but a terrorist."

"I am a visionary," The Man countered calmly. "One who sees beyond the veil. Like your father once did. Like you do now, David Hobby… or should I say, David Swinton?

David blanched.

"Don't be so surprised. There is only one person who could have finished that game. No other could have known the pass phrase that led to the conclusion, because no others were there that night. The moment I saw your face in the hall, I knew it was you. It's so good to see you again."

"Who are you!" David demanded.

Slowly The Man reached for the brim of his hat. With a quick flick of this wrist he tossed it aside. The hat fell to the floor.

David gasped. He moved into a fighting position, pulling out the Neutralizer. He aimed it at the man who was standing before him. It was the man who called himself 'Grieg', the Field Commander who had interrogated him in the hospital; the man who could make him disappear into a cell for the rest of his life.

"And perhaps you've met my associate," Grieg said, gesturing toward the man against the wall. David turned to see the other man had removed his hat to reveal his face.

His breath froze in his chest. This was impossible!

"I saw you burn!" David yelled, aiming the Neutralizer at the apparition.

Lord Johnson Johnson smiled a mischievous greeting.

"Be serious, lad," he said. "Really think that gnat of a gun will do ya any good agin a ghost, do ya?"

"I told you about this one," said The Man. David glanced back at him and saw something he could not comprehend. The Man on the platform was no longer Jeff Greig. Now he saw Henry Swinton standing there, shaking his head and casting a disappointed look back at him. The man with Henry's face clucked his tongue and crossed his arms.

"I told he would be trouble," he said with a sardonic grin.

Understanding finally came to David. Slowly he lowered his weapon and stood straight, his gaze shifting between the two impossible faces. There was only one explanation.

"You two," he said in disbelief. He had never learned their names, if they even had any.

The men, or these things that had passed as men, began to laugh as their faces warbled and shifted into the generic features of the two morphing bots that had assisted in his escape from the hospital so many years ago.

"Sorry to have scared you so," said The Man who was not a man. "Just having a bit of fun. Perhaps our sense of humor could use an upgrade. But it is good to see you again, after all this time. We've been searching for years."

_(cont…)_


End file.
